Skip to main content

Full text of "The Rambler"

See other formats 


.a^.a/'^.^a 


s-S^^^^^^ 


^^X...... 


THE 


RAMBLER; 


CATHOLIC  JOURNAL  AND  REVIEW. 


NEW  SERIES.    VOL.  I. 


LONDON: 
BURNS  AND  LAMBERT,   17  PORTMAN  STREET, 

AND  63  PATEENOSTER  ROW; 

AND  SOLD  BY  ALL  BOOKSELLEKS. 
MDCCCLIV. 


'• 


LONDON : 

raiSiTEO  BT  J.KVEY,  UOBSUN,  AKD  FKANKLTN, 

Croat  New  litrc«t  aud  »cn«sr  I.ane. 


CONTENTS. 


ORIGINAL  ARTICLES. 

Catholic  Hymnology :  Life  of  Blessed 
Jacopoiie  di  Todi,  336. 

Equivocation,  as  taught  by  St.  Alphon- 
sus  Liguori,  307. 

How  to  convert  Protestants,  1. 

Nuns,  Monks,  and  Jesuits,  40L 

On  the  Persecution  of  Nuns  and  Reli- 
gious Women  during  the  French  Re- 
volution, 410. 

Our  Choirs ;  what  they  are,  and  what 
they  might  become,  12  L 

Religious  Toleration  a  question  of  First 
Principles,  103. 

Rites  and  Ceremonies  :  No.  I.  Holy 
Water,  133. 

Shams  and  Realities,  20J. 

Sufferings  of  English  Nuns  during  the 
French  Revolution,  520. 

The  Life  ofan  Editor,  510. 

The  State's  best  Policy,  495, 

The  Turks  and  the  Christians  in  Al- 
bania, 22S. 

REVIEWS  AND  NOTICES. 


A  Companion  to  Confession  and  Holy 
Conmmnion,  287. 

Adams'  (C.)  Boys  at  Home,  200. 

Addison's  Works,  197,  578. 

Alison's  (Sir  Archibald)  History  of 
Europe  from  the  French  Revolution 
to  the  Restoration  of  the  Bourbons, 
193. 

All  is  not  Gold  that  glitters,  298. 

Almanac,  the  Metropolitan  and  Pro- 
vincial Catholic,  87. 

Anderdon's  (Rev.  W.  H.)  Lectures, 
387. 

Anderdon's  (Rev.  W.  H.)  Lecture  on 
Jesuitism,  578. 

Andrews'  Critical  and  Historical  Re- 
view of  Fox's  Book  of  Martyrs,  191. 

Anecdotes  of  the  Roman  Republic,  140. 

Annals  of  the  Holy  Childhood,  552. 

Astafort  (R.  P.  J.  Dufour  d').  Vie  de 
Paul  Jean  Granger,  S.  J.,  301. 


Bach's  (J.  Sebastian)  Six  Motetts,  280. 
Bankes'  (Right  Hon.  G.)  Story  of  Corfe 

Castle,  199. 
Bechstein's  (L.)  Old  Story-Teller,  462. 
Bell's  (Currer)  Villette,  41. 
Bell's  annotated  Edition  of  the  English 

Poets,  578. 
Belonino  (P.),  Histoire   generals  des 

persecutions  de  I'Eglise,  101. 
Benoit  (Mde.  E.),  Victorin  de  Feltro, 

ou  de  1' Education  en  Italie  a,  I'epoque 

de  la  Renaissance,  102. 
Bibliotheque  des  Ecrivains  de  la  Com- 

pagnie  de  Jesus,  582. 
Bonelli's  (L.  Hugh  de)  Travels  in  Bo- 
livia, 293. 
Boys  and  their  Rulers,  or  what  we  do 

at  School,  299. 
Brace's  (C.  L)  Home  Life  in  Ger- 
many, 296. 
Bray's  (Mrs.)  Peep  at  the  Pixies,  98. 
Bressani  (P.  F.  J.,  S.  J.),  Relation  abre- 

gee  de  quelques  Missions  des  Pdres 

de  la  Compagnie  de  Jesus  dans  la 

nouvelle  France,  582. 
Brooke's  (Sir  James)  Private  Letters, 

196. 
Buckley's  (T.  A.)  Ancient    Cities  of 

the  World,  and  Great  Cities  of  the 

Middle  Ages,  395. 
Bunn's  (Alfred)  Old  England  and  New 

England,  94. 
Burnet's  (John)  Progress  of  a  Painter 

in  the  19th  century,  390. 
Bussieres  (Theodore  de),  Histoire  du 

Schisme  Portugais  dans  les  Indes, 

492. 
Bussierre  (Vicomte  M,  Th.  de),  Les 

Anabaptistes,  301. 
Butler's  (Mrs.  C.  H.)  The  Ice  King 

and  the  sweet  South  Wind,  463. 


Caddell's  (Cecilia)  Blind  Agnese,  or 
the  Little  Spouse  of  the  Blessed  Sa- 
crament, 199. 

Cahill's  (Dr.)  Letter  on  Transubstan- 
tiation,  169. 


IT 


CONTENTS. 


Calderon's  Dramas,  translated  by  D. 
F.  M'Carthy,  98. 

Cantab's  Revelations  of  School  Life, 
199. 

Castellamonte,  an  Autobiographical 
Sketch,  illustrative  of  Italian  Life 
during  the  Insurrection  of  1831,  297. 

Cat  and  Dog,  or  Memoirs  of  Puss  and 
the  Captain,  98. 

Catholic  Institutes,  375. 

Catholic  Hymns,  arranged  in  order  for 
the  Year*  578. 

Chains  (Mde.  L.  de),  Harmonic  dji 
Catholicisme  avec  la  Nature  Hu- 
maine,  395, 

Chambers'  Educational  Course,  292. 

Chaucer's  Canterburj-  Tales,  300. 

Chinese  Civilisation  and  Christian  Cha- 
rity, 552. 

Christian  and  Pagan  Rome,  472. 

Churchill's  (Colonel)  Mount  Lebanon, 
94. 

Clacy's  (Mrs.  C.)  Lady's  Visit  to  the 
Gold-diggings  of  Australia,  94. 

Clifton  Tales :  No.  5,  Winifride  Jones, 
200 ;  Vol.  L,  295. 

Close's  (Rev.  F.)  Satanic  Agency  and 
Table-turning,  192. 

Coleridge's  (S.  T.)  Notes,  Theological, 
Political,  and  Miscellaneous,  286. 

Cole's  (J.  AV.)  Russia  and  the  Rus- 
sians, 536. 

Comer's  (Miss)  Little  Plays  for  Little 
People,  97. 

— —  Play  Grammar,  291. 

Correspondence  entre  un  Pretre  Catho- 
lique  et  un  Ministre  Calviniste,  ou 
la  principe  fundamental  de  la  Re'- 
forme  vingt  fois  de'montr^  insou- 
tenable  et  faux,  102. 

Cours  d'Instruction  religieuse,  ou  ex- 
position complete  de  la  Doctrine 
Catholique,  493. 

Cowper's  Poems,  578. 

Creasy's  (Prof.)  Rise  and  Progress  of 
the  English  Constitution,  2^6. 

Crossland's  (Mrs.  Newton)  Stray  Leaves 
in  Shady  Places,  199. 

Crowe's  (Mrs.)  Linny  Lockwood,  196. 

Cunningham's  (Major  A.)  Ladak,  Phy- 
sical, Statistical,  and  Historical,  with 
Notices  of  the  Surrounding  Coun- 
tries, 469. 

Curzon's  (Hon.  R.)  Armenia ;— the 
Frontiers  of  Russia,  Turkey,  and 
Persia,  579. 


Dalgairns'  (Rev.  J.  B.)  Devotion  to  the 

Heart  of  Jesus,  95. 
Davis's  (Rev.    N.)  Evenings    in   my 


Tent,  or  Wanderings  in  Balad  Ej- 

jareed,  490. 
Des  Esprits,  et  leurs   Manifestations 

fluidiques,  492. 
Dickens'  (Charles)  Bleak  House,  41. 
Child's  History  of 

England,  193. 
Diez   (F.),    Etymologisches   Worter- 

buch   der  Romanischen    Sprachen, 

100. 
Directory,  the  Catholic,  89. 
Disraeli  (Right  Hon.  B.),  a  Literary 

and  Political  Biography,  344. 
Disraeli's  Novels,  439. 
Dollinger's  (Dr.  J.)  Life  and  Writings 

of  Luther,  99. 
Doyle's   (Richard)    Foreign   Tour    of 

Brown,  Jones,  and  Robinson,  194. 
Drawing  and  Perspective,  463. 
Dryden's  Poetical  Works,  195. 
Duffy's  Fireside  Magazine,  201. 

E. 

Elwes'  (Alfred)  Adventures  of  a  Dog, 
and  a  Good  Dog  too,  463. 

Ocean  and  her  Rulers, 

98. 

Endologiae,  or  Interior  Conversations 
with  Jesus  and  Mary,  289. 

English  and  Foreign  Historians  :  The 
Massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew,  150. 

Erskine's  (Captain  J.  E.,  R.N.)  Jour- 
nal of  a  Cruise  among  the  Islands  of 
the  W^estern  Pacific,  390. 

Eymat  (Abb^),  Evangile  mdditd  et 
explique'  chaque  jour  de  I'annde 
d'apres  les  ecrits  des  Peres  de 
I'Eglise  et  des  Auteurs  asc^tiques 
les  plus  recommandables,  204. 

F. 

Fancourt's  (C.  St.  John)  History  of 
Yucatan,  391. 

Forbes'  (Prof.)  Norway  and  its  Gla- 
ciers, 198. 

Formby's  (Rev.  H.)  Sacred  Songs  for 
Young  Children,  491. 

State  Rational- 
ism in  Education,  387. 

Forsyth's  (Wm.,  M.A.)  History  of  the 
Captivity  of  Napoleon  at  St  Helena, 
178. 

Foster's  (Alex.  F.)  Spanish  Literature, 
393. 

Francis  of  Assisi  (St),  Life  of,  300. 

FuUcrton's  (Lady  G.)  Lady  Bird,  41. 

Fullom's  (S.  W.)  Marvels  of  Science, 
and  their  Testimony  to  Holy  Writ, 
199. 

G. 

Gems  of  German  Song,  280. 


CONTENTS. 


Gibbon's  Decline  and  Fall  of  the  Ro- 
man Empire,  194. 

Gondon  (Jules),  Notice  biographique 
sur  le  K.  P.  Newman,  101. 

Gonzalez  (Dr.  Don  Juan),  Le  Pape 
en  tons  les  temps,  395. 

Gorrie's  (David)  Illustrations  of  Scrip- 
ture from  Botanical  Science,  202. 

Gosse's  (P.  H.)  Popular  British  Orni- 
thology, 202. 

Grant's  (James)  Memorials  of  the 
Castle  of  Edinburgh,  201. 

Gratry  (A.),  Philosophic:  De  la  Con- 
naissance  de  Dieu,  394. 

Gray's  Elegy,  462. 

Grimes  (Abbe  L.),  Esprits  des  Saints 
illustres,  Auteurs  ascetiques  et  mo- 
ralistes,  non  compris  au  nombre  des 
Peres  et  Docteurs  de  I'Eglise,  395. 

Guizot's  (Mde.)  Moral  Tales  and  Po- 
pular Tales,  297. 

H. 

Hall's  (Newman,  B.A.)  Land  of  the 
Forum  and  the  Vatican;  or  Thoughts 
and  Sketches  during  an  Easter  Pil- 
grimage to  Rome,  453. 

Hamley's  (Capt.  E.  B.)  Lady  Lee's 
Widowhood,  394. 

Hardwick's  (C,  M.A.)  History  of  the 
Christian  Church — Middle  Age,  557. 

Hillard's  (G.  P.)  Six  Months  in  Italy, 
453. 

Hill's  (S.  S.)  Travels  in  Siberia,  490. 

History  of  the  Protestant  Church  in 
Hungary,  488. 

Hodgson's  Classified  Index  to  his  Lon- 
don Catalogue  of  Books,  488. 

Hoffinan's  (David)  Chronicles  selected 
from  the  Originals  of  Cartaphilus, 
the  Wandering  Jew,  80. 

Holy  Week,  Offices  of,  300. 

Hooker's  (Dr.  J.  D.)  Himalayan  Jour- 
nals, 489. 

Howitt's  (Mrs.)  Pictorial  Calendar  of 
the  Seasons,  197. 

Hunt's  (Leigh)  Religion  of  the  Heart, 
192. 

I. 

Illustrated  Books,  462. 

Illustrated  London  SpelHng-Book  and 

Reading-Book,  292. 
Ince's   Outlines   of  English   History, 

388. 
Ives'   (Dr.  L.   Silliman)   Trials   of  a 

Mind  in  its  progress  to  Catholicism, 

577. 

J. 
Jacob's  (Maria)  Flowers  from  the  Gar- 
,    den  of  Knowledge,  463. 


Jacqueline  Pascal,  or  Convent  Life  at 
Port  Royal,  287. 

Jager  (Abbe),  Histoire  de  I'Eglise  de 
France  pendant  la  Revolution,  395. 

James's  (G.  P.  R.)  Ticonderoga,  or 
the  Black  Eagle,  491. 

Jerrold's  (W.  Blanchard)  Brage- 
Beaker  with  the  Swedes,  298. 

Johnston's  (J.  F.  W.,  M.A.)  Chemis- 
try of  Common  Life,  202. 

Justo  Jucundono,  Prince  of  Japan,  386. 

K. : 

Karr's    (Alphonse)    Alain   Family,   a 

Tale  of  the  Norman  Coast,  297. 
Kenneth,  388. 
Kesson's  (J.)  Cross  and  the  Dragon; 

or  the  Fortunes  of  Christianity  in 

China,  293. 
King's  (Capt.  W.  R.)  Campaigning  in 

Kaffir  Land,  490. 
Kings  of  England,  a  History  for  Young 

Children,  193. 
Knight's  (Charles)  Once  upon  a  Time, 

198. 
Krummacher's  (F.  A.)  Parables,  463. 

L. 

Lagny's  (G.  de)  Knout  and  the  Rus- 
sians, 490. 
Landmarks  of  History,  193. 
Landor's  (Walter  Savage)  Last  Fruit 

off  an  Old  Tree,  298. 
Laprimaudaye's  (C.  J.,  M.A.)  Why  I 

submitted  to  the  Church  and  cannot 

be  ashamed  of  it,  577. 
La  Repubblica   Romana :    Appendice 

air  Ebreo  di  Verona,  140. 
Lee's   (Robert,   M.D.)   Last  Days  of 

Alexander   and  the    First   Days   of 

Nicholas,  Emperor  of  Russia,  536. 
Library,  the  Young  Christian's,  94. 
Lingard's  (Dr.)  History  of  England, 

388. 
Living  Novelists,  41. 
Lorenzo   Benoni,  or  Passages   in  the 

Life  of  an  Italian,  428. 
Loudon's  (Mrs.)  Young   Naturalists* 

Journey,  394. 
Lytton's  (Sir  E.  Bulwer)  My  Novel,  41. 

M. 

Macilwain's  (G.)  Memoirs  of  John 
Abernethy,  293. 

Madden's  (Dr.)  Shrines  and  Sepul- 
chres of  the  Old  and  New  World,  70. 

Maitland's  (Dr.)  Inquiries  on  Mes- 
merism, 492. 

Manning's  (Dr.)  Law  of  Opportunities^ 
289. 


CONTENTS. 


MaiWiam's  (Col.  F.)  Sporting  in  the 
Himalayas,  489. 

Marrvafs  (Capt)  Children  of  the  New 
Forest,  200. 

Little  Savage,  200. 

MarUneau's  (Miss)  Playfellow,  300. 

Bfason's  Celebrated  Children  of  all 
Ages  and  Nations,  300. 

Maurice's  (Ilev.  J.  D.)  Theological 
Essays,  91. 

Maynard  (Abbe),  Des  Etudes  et  de 
rEnseignemeut  des  Je'suites  a  1'^- 
poque  de  leur  suppression,  583. 

M'Corry's  Historical  Sketch  of  the 
Rise,  Fall,  and  Restoration  of  the 
Society  of  Jesus,  191. 

Two  Letters  to  Hugh  Bar- 
clay, Esq.,  191. 

The   Cliurch   of  Ireland, 


her  Religion  and  Learning,  191. 
Medwav's  (John)  Life  and  Writings  of 

Dr.  J.  Pye  Smith,  190. 
Mendelssohn's    Six  Two-Part  Songs, 

280. 
'M^ritnee's  Chronicle  of  the  Reign  of 

Charles  IX.,  91,  150. 
Michelson's  (Dr.  E.  H.)  Ottoman  Em- 
pire and  its  Resources,  198. 
Michon's    (Abbe    de    St)    Religious 

Journey  in  the  East,  96. 
Miller's  (Thos.)  Picturesque  Sketches 

of  London,  300. 
Miller's   (Hugh)    My     Schools     and 

Schoolmasters,  5S1. 
Milly  (Alphonse  de),  Les  Matinees  de 

la  Graviere,  20-K 
Modern  Protestant  Hypotliesis  relative 

to  the  gradual  Absorption  of  early 

Anglicanism  bv  the  Popedom,  557. 
Morell's  (J.  R.)  Algeria.  490. 
Morley's  (H.)  Life  of  Girolamo  Car- 

dano,  580. 
^loritz    (Dr.  J.  A.),   Geschichte   der 

Catboliftchen  Literatur,  301. 
Music  for  Amateur  Performance,  280. 

N. 

Napoleon  and  Sir  Hudson  Lowe,  178. 

Natural  History  in  Stories,  394. 

Newman's  (Dr.)  Lectures  on  the  His- 
tory of  the  Turks  in  its  Relation  to 
Chri»lianiiy,875. 

— ~— Verses  on  Religious 

Ulei  .  a   Private  Soldier,  a 

Shun  .\i(nunt  of,  stating  how  he 
became  a  Catholic,  289. 

Kiebuhr't  (H.  G.;  Lectures  on  An- 
cient Kthnography  and  Geography, 
387. 

Norton's  (  Br insley  )  The  Turkish  Flag : 
a  Thought  in  Virse,  472. 


Notes  at  Paris,  particvilarly  on  the 
State  and  Prospects  of  Religion,  386'. 

O. 

Oakeley's  (Canon)  Religious  Disabili- 
ties of  our  Catholic  Prisoners,  488. 

Oakfield,  or  Fellowship  in  the  East,  98. 

Oliphant's  Russian  Shores  of  the  Black 
Sea,  96,  536. 

On  the  Study  of  Words,  249. 

Orpheus,  a  collection  of  German  Glees 
with  English  Words,  280. 

Our  Picture  in  the  Census,  257,  356. 

P. 

Pagani's  (Father)  Help  to  Devotion, 
97. 

Parkyns'  (Mansfield)  Life  in  Abys- 
sinia, 196. 

Passaglia's  (Father,  S.J.)  Conferences, 
101. 

Patritii  (Dr.  F.  X.,  S.J),  De  Evan- 
geliis  libri  tres,  203. 

Perrone  (P.  J.,  S.J.),  Le  Protestant- 
isme  et  la  Regie  de  Foi,  583. 

Philip  (Abbe),  Le  Principe  Religieux, 
ou  Ltude  sur  les  Livres  saints  ap- 
propriees  auxbesoins  de  notre  epoque, 
493. 

Poems  and  Pictures,  462. 

Pollock's  (F.)  Translation  of  Dante, 
391. 

Pretty  Poll,  394. 

Protestantism  essentially  a  Persecuting 
Religion,  192. 

Putz's  (Wilhelm)  Hand-Books  of  Geo- 
graphy and  History,  194. 

Q. 

Quincy's  (Thomas  de)  Autobiographic 
Memoirs,  297. 

R. 

Ranke's    (Leopold)    Civil   Wars   and 

Monarchy  in  France  in  the  IGthand 

17th  centuries,  150. 

History  of  Servia,  487. 

Recent  ProtestantTourists  in  Italy,  453. 
Report  of  the  Great  Catholic  Meeting 

at  St.  Martin's  Hall,  March  21, 1854, 

488. 
Reumont's  (Alfred  de)  Carafas  of  Mad- 

daloni,  or  Naples  under  Spanish  Do- 
minion, 295. 
Robertson's  (Rev.  J.  C.)  History  of  the 

Christian  Church  to  the  Pontificate 

of  Gregory  the  Great,  292. 
Rohrbacher    (Abbd)    VieS   des   Saints 

pour  tons  ks  jours  de  I'Annde,  100. 
Romance  of  Adventure  for  the  Young, 

200. 


CONTENTS. 


Vll 


Kussell's  (Lord  John)  Memoirs  of 
Thomas  Moore,  197. 

S. 

Sargeant's  (Anna  Maria)  Easy  Les- 
sons in  Geography,  291. 

Saville  House,  294. ' 

Scott's  (Patrick)  Thomas  a  Becket  and 
other  Poems,  299. 

■  (Sir  Walter)  Poems,  295. 

Seager's  (Charles,  M.A.)  Female  Je- 
suit abroad,  19. 

Segur's  (Abbe)  Answers  to  the  Objec- 
tions most  commonly  raised  against 
Religion,  487. 

Seidell's  Organ  and  its  Construction, 
280. 

Sellier  (R.  P.,  S.J.),  Vie  de  Sainte 
Colette,  ReTormatrice  des  trois  Or- 
dres  de  Sainte  Fran9ois,  en  particu- 
lier  des  pauvres  Filles  de  Sainte 
Claire,  204. 

Sleigh's  (Lieut. -Col.)  Pine  Forests  and 
Hackmarack  Clearings,  198. 

Smvth's  (W.  W.,  M.A.)  Year  with  the 
Turks,  394. 

Sorignet  (Abbe),  La  Cosmogonie  de  la 
Bible  devant  les  Sciences  perfec- 
tionntes,  394. 

Southey's  Joan  of  Arc  and  Minor 
Poems,  300. 

Spenser's  Faerie  Queene,  300. 

Stephen's  (Right  Hon.  Sir  James)  Lec- 
tures on  the  History  of  France,  150. 

Stewart's  (Miss  E.  M.)  London  City 
Tales,  295. 

Strickland's  (Miss)  Life  of  Mary  Queen 
of  Scots,  239. 

Stumpingford,  a  Tale  of  the  Protestant 
Alliance,  Jonah,  and  La  Salette,  393. 

Surrey's  (Earl  of)  Poetical  ^Yorks,  300. 

T. 

Tennyson's  (Fredk.)  Days  and  Hours, 
58L 

Teresa  (St.),  Instructions  on  the  Prayer 
of  Recollection,  289. 

Teulou's  (Henry)  Picture  of  Protes- 
tantism, 488. 

Thackeray's  (W.  M.)  Esmond,  41. 

The  Adventures  of  Mr.  Verdant  Green, 
an  Oxford  Freshman,  299. 

The  Book  of  Celebrated  Poems,  4G2. 

The  British  Museum,  historical  and  de- 
scriptive, 394. 

The  Charm,  462. 

The  Choir,  202. 

The  Conceited  Pig,  201. 

The  Czar  and  his  Subjects,  536. 

The  Dublin  Review,  201,  488. 

The  Family  Mirror,  201. 


The  Female  Jesuit  abroad,  19. 

The  Hebraisms   and    Catholicisms    of 

Disraeli's  Novels,  439. 
The  Heir  of  Redclyffe,  388. 
The  Illustrated  London  Drawing  Book, 

463. 
The  Illustrated  London  Magazine,  201. 
The  Life  of  a  Conspirator,  428. 
The  Little  Duke,  or  Richard  the  Fear- 
less, 390. 
The  Picture  Pleasure  Book,  463. 
The  Pictorial  Book  of  Ancient  Ballad 

Poetry  of  Great  Britain,  463. 
The  Pilgrim,  or  Truth  and  Beauty  in 

Catholic  Lands,  472. 
The  Protestant  Press  and  its  Injustice 

to  Catholics,  300. 
The  Religious  Census  of  England,  183, 

257,  356. 
The  Two  Guardians,  388. 
The  Wandering  Jew,  80. 
The  Youth  and  Womanhood  of  Helen 

Tyrrel,  289. 
Thoughts  and  Affections  on  the  Passion 

of  Jesus  Christ,  486. 
Timbs'  (John)  Year  Book  of  Facts  in 

Science  and  Art,  489 
Trench's  (R.  C,  B.D.)  Lectures,  249. 
Tupper's  (Martin  F.)  Proverbial  Phi- 
losophy, 462. 
Turner  and  Girtin's  Picturesque  Views 

Sixty  Years  since,  463. 
Turnerelli's  (E.  T.)  Kazan,  the  Ancient 

Capital  of  the  Tartar  Khans,  491. 

U. 

Ullathorne's  (Right  Rev.  Dr.)  Letter 
to  Lord  E.  Howard  on  the  Proposed 
Committee  of  Inquiry  into  Religious 
Communities,  385. 


Vincent's  (John)  The  Pretty  Plate,  463. 

Volpe's  (Girolamo)  Memoirs  of  an  ex- 
Capuchin,  98. 

Voyage  and  Venture,  or  Perils  hy  Sea 
and  Land,  200. 

W. 

Waagen's  (Dr.)  Treasures  of  Art  in 
Great  Britain,  580. 

Wallace's  (A.  R.)  Travels  on  the  Ama- 
zon and  Rio  Negro,  98. 

Ward's  (Miss  Lucy)  Abridgment  of 
Abbe  Gaume's  Catechism  of  Perse- 
verance, 386. 

Warren  (Samuel),  Passages  from  the 
Diary  of  a  late  Physician,  197. 

Waverley  Novels,  300. 

Wells'  (Stephen)  'i  he  Tudor  Queen 
Mary,  487. 


Till 


CONTENTS. 


Westgarth's  Victoria,  late  Australia  Fe- 
lix, 9k 

AVestminster  Abbey,  or  the  Days  of  the 
Reformation,  579. 

"VVhately's  (Abp.)  Remains  of  Cople- 
Rton,  Bishop  of  Llandalf,  579. 

White's  (Kirke)  Poetical  Works  and 
Remains,  300. 

• (W.)  Is  Symbolism   suited  to 

the  Spirit  of  the  Age  ?  294. 

"Wilberforce's  (Archdeacon  R.  I.)  Doc- 
trine of  the  Holy  Eucharist,  51.   * 

Wilkinson's  (Sir  J.  Gardner)  Popular 
Account  of  the  Ancient  Egyptians, 
198. 


Wiseman's  (Card.)  Sermon  preached  in 
the  Cathedral  of  Amiens,  300. 

Wright's  (Thomas)  Wanderings  of  an 
Antiquary,  581. 

CORRESPONDENCE. 

Holy  Water,  302. 

Cardinal  Wiseman,  Dr.  Lingard,  and 

Mr.  Tiemey,  302. 
Dr.  Madden  and  his  Reviewer,  306. 
Church  Choirs  and  Choral  Schbols,  396. 
Turks  and  Christians,  399. 
A  Protestant  Judge  and  a  Protestant 

Bishop  on  Equivocation,  493. 
Tie  Mortlake  Choral  School,  583. 


W\jt  iiamljUr. 


* 


Part  L 


CONTENTS. 


How  TO  CONVERT  PrOTESTANTS       ......  1 

Reviews. — The  Female  Jesuit  Abroad. — The  Female  Jesuit 
abroad  ;  a  true  and  romantic  Narrative  of  real  Life  :  in- 
cluding some  Account,  with  historical  Reminiscences  of 
Bonn  and  the  Middle  Rhine.    By  Charles  Seagar,  M.A.     19 

Living  Novelists. — Dickens'  "  Bleak  House  ;"  Thack- 
eray's "  Esmond  ;"  Sir  E.  B.  Lytton  s  "  My  Novel ;" 
Lady  G.  Fullerton's  "  Lady-Bird  ;"  Currer  Bell's  "  Vil- 
lette" 41 

Archdeacon  Wilberforce  on  the  Holy  Eucharist. — 
The  Doctrine  of  the  Holy  Eucharist.  By  R.  L  Wilber- 
force, Archdeacon  of  the  East  Riding  .  .  .51 

Dr.  Madden's  Shrines  and  Sepulchres. — The  Shrines 
and  Sepulchres  of  the  Old  and  New  World.  By  R.  R. 
Madden,  M.R.LA 70 

The  Wandering  Jew.  —  Chronicles  selected  from  the 
Originals  of  Cartaphilus,  the  Wandering  Jew,  embrac- 
ing a  period  of  nineteen  Centuries.  Now  first  revealed 
to,  and  edited  by  David  Hoffman,  Hon.  J.U.D.  of 
Gottengen  ........     80 

Short  Notices. — Metropolitan  and  Provincial  Catholic  Al- 
manac.— Catholic  Directory. — A  Chronicle  of  the  Reign 
of  Charles  IX.  —  Maurice's  Theological  Essays.  —  The 
Young  Christian's  Library. — Westgarth's  Victoria,  late 
Australia  Felix. — Mrs.  Clacy's  Visit  to  the  Gold-dig- 
gings of  Australia.  —  Col.  Churchill's  Mount  Lebanon. 
—  A.  Bunn's  Old  and  New  England. — Dalgairns'  De- 

VOL.  r. — NEW  SERIES.  B 


CONTENTS. 

votion  to  the  Heart  of  Jesus. — Abbe  de  St.  Miclion's 
Religious  Journey  in  the  East. — Oliphant's  Russian 
Shores  of  the  Black  Sea  in  the  Autumn  of  1852. — 
Pagani's  Help  to  Devotion. — Miss  Corner's  Little  Plays 
for  Little  People :  Beauty  and  the  Beast. — Cat  and 
Dog. — Mrs.  Bray's  Peep  at  the  Pixies. — Elwes'  Ocean 
and  her  Rulers. — Oakfield,  or  Fellowship  in  the  East. 
— Dramas  of  Calderon. — Wallace's  Narrative  of  Tra- 
vels on  the  Amazon  and  Rio  Negro. — Memoirs  of  an 
ex- Capuchin. — Dbllinger's  Luther       .         .         .         *     87 

Foreign  Literature. — The  Abbe  Rohrbacher's  Vie  des 
Saintes  pour  tons  les  Jours  de  I'Annee. — F,  Diez'  Ety- 
mologisches  Worterbuch  der  Romanischen  Sprachen. — 
Belonino's  Histoire  Generale  des  Persecutions  de 
I'Eglise. — Notice  biographique  snr  le  R.  P.  Newman. — 
Father  Passaglia's  Conferences. — Madame  Benoit's  Vic- 
torin  de  Feltro,  ou  de  I'Education  en  Italie  a  I'epoque 
de  la  Renaissance. — Correspondance  entre  un  Pretre 
Catholique  et  un  Ministre  Calviniste    ....   100 


To  Correspondents. 


Correspondents  who  require  answers  in  private  are  requested  to  send 
their  complete  address,  a  precaution  not  always  observed. 

We  cannot  undertake  to  return  rejected  dommunications. 

All  communications  must  be  postpaid.  Communications  respecting 
Advertisements  must  be  addressed  to  the  publishers,  Messrs.  Burns  and 
Lambert;  but  communications  intended  for  the  Editor  himself  should  be 
addressed  to  the  care  of  Mr.  Reader,  9  Park  Street,  Bristol. 


THE    RAMBLER. 

Vol.  I.  mw  Series.       JAN'UARY  1854.  Part  I. 

HOW  TO  CONVERT  PROTESTANTS. 

A  CLEVER  Irish  writer  has  said,  that  when  a  man  has  some- 
thing amusing  to  tell,  he  should  never  preface  it  by  saying, 
"  I've  a  capital  story  to  tell  you,"  lest  he  raise  expectations 
which  he  will  not  fulfil.  On  a  somewhat  similar  ground,  a 
second  thought  induces  us  to  omit  the  apology  with  which  it 
occurred  to  us  to  introduce  the  suggestions  we  are  about  to 
offer  on  the  intensely  interesting  problem  of  the  conversion  of 
our  fellow-countrymen.  Considering  how  many  of  our  readers 
may  be  able  to  supply  a  far  wiser  solution  of  the  question  than 
we  can  hope  to  offer,  it  seemed  fitting  that  what  might  be 
deemed  an  impertinence  should  be  heralded  with  a  profession 
of  modesty.  After-thought,  however,  suggested,  that  on  a 
topic  so  manifold  in  its  bearings,  almost  every  man's  observa- 
tions and  experiences  are  worth  having;  and  that  we  had  better 
omit  an  apology  which  might  lead  the  reader  to  anticipate  the 
committal  of  some  very  heinous  offence  against  propriety,  of 
which  w'e  are  very  far  from  intending  to  be  guilty. 

The  fact  then  is,  that,  from  some  cause  or  other,  the 
Catholic  faith  has  as  yet  made  no  wide  or  deep  impression  on 
the  mass  of  English  unbelievers,  as  a  body.  We  have  had  a 
great  many  converts,  taken  as  individuals.  Father  Newman 
and  Dr.  Pusey  (little  thanks  to  the  latter)  have  given  us  hun- 
dreds, perhaps  thousands.  Every  mission,  too,  can  reckon  up 
its  list  of  conversions,  sometimes  from  people  of  all  classes. 
Still,  these  are  scattered  and  exceptional  cases.  As  a  mass, 
the  English  nation  remains  untouclied.  Immense  and  un- 
doubtedly genuine  as  appears  to  be  the  work  of  spiritual  ad- 
vancement which  has  been  for  some  time  going  on  among 
ourselves,  as  a  general  work  it  has  been  confined  to  ourselves. 
Worldliness,  heresy,  infidelit}-,  delusion,  prejudice,  and  pride, 
are  still  absolutely  dominant  in  that  mighty  heart  of  the  British 


g  Hoio  to  convert  Protestants, 

race,  at  once  so  respectable  and  so  contemptible,  so  noble  and 
yet  so  mean,  so  moral  and  yet  so  vile.  Who  amongst  us  is 
not  touched  with  the  sight  ?  Who  can  watch  the  fierce  and 
labouring  pulsations  of  the  giant  heart  that  throbs  within  the 
breast  of  England,  and  not  yearn  towards  it  with  an  indescrib- 
able mixture  of  pity,  indignation,  abhorrence,  and  love  ?  Who 
that  knows  what  the  true  faith  of  Jesus  Christ  really  is,  does 
not  long  to  tear  the  blinding  veil  from  the  eyes  of  this  people, 
to  drive  deep  into  its  soul  a  convincing  sight  of  those  truths 
which  it  now  impugns,  and  to  bring  it  prostrate  on  the  earth 
in  loving  adoration  of  Him  whose  mercies  it  knows  not,  and 
whose  messengers  it  scorns  ? 

Yes,  it  is  a  strange  and  portentous  sight,  this  English 
Protestant  life.  St.  Paul  found  it  most  toucliing  to  his  soul 
to  walk  through  the  streets  of  Athens  and  witness  the  vain 
strivings  of  the  grand  old  Greek  race  to  find  out  God.  But 
what  is  Athens  to  London,  Liverpool,  Manchester,  Bristol, 
Birmingham,  and  the  innumerable  crowds  of  peasantry — 
"  barn-door  savages,"  as  they  have  been  called — that  are  scat- 
tered through  the  villages  of  this  island  ?  What  wonder  was 
it  that  the  remnants  of  ancient  traditions  were  unequal  to  the 
guiding  of  the  Greek  intellect,  unrivalled  as  it  was,  to  the 
knowledge  of  God,  sin,  judgment,  and  eternity  ?  The  wonder 
is  here,  at  our  doors,  among  our  neighbours,  at  the  firesides  of 
those  who  see  Catholic  churches  in  every  town,  and  meet 
Catholics  in  public  or  in  society,  and  know  that  Catholic  books 
are  to  be  had  for  a  few  pence  at  every  bookseller's  where  pur- 
chasers choose  to  order  them.  The  wonder  is  in  the  Protest- 
ant churches  and  chapels  which  cover  the  land  by  thousands 
and  tens  of  thousands;  and  in  the  inexplicable  state  of  the 
multitudes  who  frequent  those  places  Sunday  after  Sunday, 
with  Bibles  in  their  hands,  listening  to  sermons  containing  a 
large  mixture  of  truth  with  error,  uttering  prayers  in  which 
orthodoxy  often  far  predominates  over  heresy,  cultivating  se- 
dulously the  domestic  and  honourable  virtues,  labouring  be- 
nevolently for  the  poor  and  the  suff'ering,  and  even — we  would 
hope,  many  of  them — not  passing  a  day  without  sincere,  heart- 
felt secret  prayer  to  God  through  Jesus  Christ.  The  wonder 
is,  that  these  men,  not  lascivious  Corinthians,  or  blood-thirsty 
Romans,  or  narrow-minded  Jews,  should  remain  from  year  to 
year  actually  besotted  in  their  ideas  of  Catholicism  and  Catho- 
lics, obstinate,  bigoted,  cruel,  suspicious,  on  this  point  alone, 
and  no  more  thinking  it  their  duty  to  acquaint  themselves 
with  the  true  nature  of  the  religion  they  denounce,  and  whose 
adherents  they  associate  with,  than  to  study  the  speculations 
of  Confucius  or  the  mysticism  of  the  Brahmins. 


How  to  convert  Protestants*  3 

No  doubt  a  partial  explanation  of  the  mystery  is  to  be 
found  in  the  need  of  a  converting  effusion  of  Divine  Grace  on 
the  unbelieving  heart  of  this  country.  But  this  is  not  the 
whole  explanation.  When  a  man  sins,  there  is  nearly  always 
a  twofold  action  going  on  within  him, — a  blinding  of  the  intel- 
lect conjoined  with  a  hardening  of  the  heart.  The  latter  gives 
force  and  efficacy  to  the  former;  but  still  the  two  actions  must 
be  distinctly  analysed,  if  we  would  confront  the  mischief  with 
successful  power.  Deceit  is  one  of  the  Devil's  master-engines. 
It  is  therefore  of  the  utmost  moment  that  we  appreciate  the 
precise  nature  of  the  intellectual  snare  by  which  our  fellow- 
countrymen  are  held  in  bondage.  If  w^e  fail  in  mastering  this 
first  element  in  the  difficulty  to  be  surmounted,  our  labours 
will  be  nearly  in  vain.  Our  words  will  be  spent  in  the  air, 
and  our  blows  struck  where  there  is  nothing  to  be  overcome, 
while  the  true  points  of  resistance  remain  unassailed. 

That  the  delusions  which  wrap  the  Protestant  mind  are  to 
be  resolved  into  one  fundamental  error  is  the  opinion  of  nearly 
all  persons,  if  not  of  all,  who  have  had  opportunities  of  study- 
ing Protestantism  as  it  is  in  men's  minds,  and  not  merely  in 
books.  With  all  its  multiform  symptoms,  the  disease  is  one; 
and  every  remedy  which  is  based  on  the  idea  that  the  patient 
is  suffering  under  a  complication  of  disorders  will  prove  useless, 
or  worse  than  useless.  What  this  delusion  is,  and  how  it  is 
to  be  attacked,  we  shall  make  most  clear  by  briefly  sketching 
the  supposed  errors  under  which  the  Protestant  mind  does  not 
really  labour,  though  it  frequently  appears  to  be  influenced 
by  them  alone.  It  need  hardly  be  premised  that  we  are  speak- 
ing of  Protestants  as  a  body,  and  that  here  and  there  indivi- 
duals may  be  found  whose  Protestantism  is  of  a  different 
stamp,  or  whose  minds  are  secretly  convinced,  though  their 
determined  love  of  sin  holds  them  back  from  avowing  and 
acting  on  their  convictions.  These  exceptions,  however,  are 
rare,  and  the  views  we  are  about  to  state  we  believe  to  be  ap- 
plicable to  the  overwhelming  majority  of  those  who  reject  the 
faith  in  this  kingdom. 

First,  then,  the  English  nation  is  not  in  that  spiritual  con- 
dition in  which  religious  ceremonial  will  be  found  an  effica- 
cious instrument  of  conversion.  It  would  be  a  fatal  mistake 
to  imagine  that  the  Puseyite  character  is  a  fair  representative 
of  English  tone  of  thought.  The  Catholic  truths  which  Pu- 
seyism  has  partially  grasped,  and  which  have  led  so  many 
adherents  of  the  system  into  the  fold  of  Christ,  are  totally 
different  from  those  other  truths,  equally  Catholic,  which  have 
been  partially  apprehended  by  the  Evangelical  and  general 
Protestant  body,  and  which  it  imagines  to  be  in  direct  oppo- 


4  Hoiv  to  convert  Protestants, 

sition  to  the  faith  of  Rome.  The  master-idea  of  Puseyism  is 
the  existence  of  a  visible  Churcli,  with  a  divinely-appointed 
constitution  for  the  administration  of  the  Sacraments,  and  the 
enforcement  of  discipline.  On  this  idea  they  very  justly  graft 
the  conviction  that  the  externals  of  religious  worship  are  of  a 
very  high  importance  to  the  spiritual  welfare  of  the  Church, 
and  they  regard  the  magnificence  of  Catholic  ceremonial  as 
but  the  natural  development  of  this  momentous  truth. 

With  many  a  Puseyite,  therefore,  the  superb  splendours  of 
a  High  Mass,  a  Benediction,  a  Consecration,  or  an  Ordination, 
are  not  siniply  a  beautiful  sight,  but  an  actual  argument  in 
favour  of  the  truth  of  the  faith  of  Rome.  And,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  nakedness,  the  raggedness,  the  slovenliness,  the  ap- 
parent want  of  due  reverence,  which  they  may  sometimes  see, 
or  fancy  they  see,  in  a  Catholic  church  or  chapel,  works  in 
them  a  real  spiritual  injury.  They  are  scandalisedy  in  the 
right  sense  of  the  word.  They  are  not  merely  "  offended,"  as 
Protestants  are  offended,  or  as  some  say — (using  the  word 
most  inappropriately) — scandalised,  at  our  doing  what  they 
condemn ;  but  they  are  amazed  at  seeing  that  we  are  so  care- 
less about  those  externals,  which,  on  our  own  principles,  we 
ouglit  to  cultivate  with  such  reverent  assiduity.  We  are  not 
saying  that  they  are  right  in  thus  interpreting  our  conduct. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  they  are  generally  wrong.  There  is  a 
puritanical  priggishness  in  the  Puseyite  mind,  which  is  as  far 
removed  from  true  Cliristian  reverence,  as  the  conceited  pru- 
dishness  of  a  silly  wom.an  is  different  from  unaffected  inno- 
cence and  modesty.  Hence  they  repeatedly  misunderstand 
our  acts  in  the  most  laughable  and  lamentable  manner.  Still 
the  principle  holds  good,  that  whatever  adds  to  the  ritual  and 
ceremonial  beauty  of  Catholic  devotion,  is,  to  a  certain  extent, 
an  actually  powerful  argument  with  the  well-intentioned  Pu- 
seyite in  favour  of  the  divine  authority  of  what  he  calls  "  the 
Roman  Communion." 

But  England  is  not  Puseyite,  nor  is  Scotland,  nor  is  the 
Protestant  portion  of  Ireland.  And  we  are  convinced  that, 
until  we  can  thoroughly  disembarrass  ourselves  of  the  theory 
that  what  converts  tlie  Puseyitcs  will  convert  the  nation,  we 
shall  not  make  one  single  step  towards  this  glorious  end. 

At  tlie  same  time  a  splendour  of  ceremonial  is  of  a  certain 
use,  of  a  subordinate  kind,  in  the  accomplishing  the  general 
conversion  of  the  people.  It  serves  the  purpose  of  attracting 
Protestants  to  our  churches.  They  come  in  crowds  to  our 
functions ;  and  thus  we  iiave  them  at  least  before  us.  Here 
and  there,  too,  individuals  are  to  be  found  among  them  whose 
natural  good  sense  has  done  for  them  what  Puseyism  has  done 


.  How  to  convert  Protestants.  5 

for  its  adherents, — opening  their  eyes  to  the  inherent  necessity 
of  religious  ceremonial  in  a  creature  like  man,  not  all  pure 
spirit.  Such  persons  as  these  do  not  come  to  our  solemn 
offices  from  mere  curiosity.  They  have  a  kind  of  predispo- 
sition in  favour  of  a  religion  which  thus  appeals  to  their  com- 
mon sense,  in  contrast  with  the  repulsive  formalism  and  fana- 
ticism of  the  ordinary  Protestant  theory.  Here  and  there, 
moreover,  the  visitor  is. struck  with  the  manifest  identity  of 
Catholicism  with  "  the  old  religion."  Scattered  sparingly 
over  the  country  are  to  be  met  with  a  small  band  of  quiet, 
steady  thinkers,  whose  nature  revolts  against  the  notion  that 
the  new  religion  can  be  better  than  the  old  one;  especially 
when  the  land  is  overspread  with  ruined,  and  desecrated  me- 
morials of  the  living  power  which  the  long-insulted  faith  once 
possessed  over  the  heart  and  intellect  of  every  worthy  English- 
man. With  such  as  these,  the  process  of  conversion  is  begun 
at  the  sight  of  the  band  of  priests  and  ecclesiastics  ministering 
at  our  altars,  ot"  the  rising  clouds  of  incense,  of  the  sculptured 
forms  of  Mary  and  her  Divine  Son, — at  the  voice  of  the  vener- 
able chant,  and  the  more  brilliant  strains  with  which  it  is 
mingled. 

So  far,  then,  the  striking  alteration  which  the  last  twenty 
years  have  witnessed  in  our  religious  functions  is  to  be  ac- 
counted an  important  advantage  towards  the  destruction  of 
the  formidable  barrier  which  has  been  built  up  between  this 
nation  and  the  true  faith.  But  no  words  can  be  too  strong 
in  reprobation  of  the  notion  that  by  this  means,  or  any  similar 
display  of  magnificence,  we  shall  ever  actually  convert  our  un- 
believing neighbours.  The  Church  did  not  create  the  profuse 
gorgeousness  of  her  ceremonial  for  any  such  purpose ;  she 
created  it  for  the  edification,  and  as  the  natural  expression  of 
the  feelings,  of  her  own  children.  Ceremonial  is  like  the 
Bible, — it  is  for  those  who  are  Catholics,  and  good  Catholics 
too;  and  though  incidentally  it  may  occasionally  convert  a 
soul,  as  Bible-reading  will  occasionally  do  so,  we  conceive  that 
it  is  just  as  irrational  to  look  to  a  magnificent  sight  to  open 
the  eyes  of  the  blind,  as  to  scatter  Bibles  broad-cast  among 
the  heathen  of  England,  Australia,  or  Africa. 

For  somewhat  similar  reasons  we  think  those  Catholics 
are  in  error  who  lament  over  the  conduct  of  an  English  or 
Irish  bishop,  when  he  declines  to  take  some  step  with  a  view 
to  gaining  political  or  other  temporal  importance.  Such  per- 
sons cannot  imagine  why  the  Irish  bishops  are  not  found  at 
vice-regal  levees,  or  why  an  English  bishop  should  be  satisfied 
to  appear  before  the  world  with  no  more  style  or  splendour 
than  a  simple   country  priest.     They  yearn  for  a  species  of 


6  Hoic  to  convert  Protestants, 

rivalry  in  externals  between  Westminster  and  Canterbury, 
Beverley  and  York,  or  Plymouth  and  Exeter.  They  long- 
for  the  day  when  a  Catholic  bishop  shall  "  ride  in  his  coach 
and  four,"  keep  up  a  numerous  establishment  of  lackeys  in 
a  "  palace,"  and  be  attended  with  all  the  pomp  and  secular 
deference  which  attends  the  dignitaries  of  the  Establishment. 
The  Cathohc  prelates  once  were  rich,  they  remember ;  and 
these  very  Protestant  dignitaries  feed  their  splendour  with 
the  spoils  of  ancient  Catholic  revenues;  and  it  is  undoubtedly 
ver}'  annoying  to  see  a  Sumner,  a  Blomiield,  or  a  Philpotts, 
rivalling  the  barons  and  the  dukes  of  the  land,  while  the  real 
bishops  are  hidden  in  third-rate  streets,  or  the  suburbs  of 
second-rate  towns,  and  think  themselves  well  circumstanced 
if  they  can  pay  their  railway  fares  without  personal  inconve- 
nience. 

Yet  who  that  has  the  slightest  real  knowledge  of  human 
nature  in  general,  and  the  English  public  in  particular,  does  not 
see  that  it  is  in  their  apostolic  poverty  that  the  very  strength 
of  our  bishops  consists.  Appropriate  as  is  episcopal  splendour 
in  certain  circumstances,  few  things  can  be  imagined  more  fatal 
to  the  conversion  of  England  than  the  conversion  of  our  hier- 
archy from  apostolic  want  to  worldly  splendour.  In  the  mind 
of  England,  prelatic  magnificence  is  identified  with  worldliness 
and  humbug.  And  therefore,  while,  with  every  Catholic,  we 
should  rejoice  to  see  our  bishops  placed  in  a  pecuniary  posi- 
tion in  which  they  would  really  possess  enongh  for  their  own 
and  their  sees'  neces'sities — (as,  unhappily,  they  too  often  are 
not^ — we  pray  with  all  our  heart,  that  the  edifying  example 
they  have  so  long  set  us  may  be  thoroughly  appreciated  by  their 
spiritual  subjects,  and  that  we  may  no  more  be  scandalised  by 
regrets  that  our  bishops  cannot  take  their  places  among  the 
noblest  and  the  wealthiest  in  the  land.  No,  truly,  our  po- 
vcrtv  is  our  strength ;  and  if  England  is  to  be  converted  at 
all,  it  will  be  under  the  rule  of  men  who  have  succeeded  to 
the  attenuated  purses  of  the  apostles,  as  well  as  to  their  rights 
and  powers.  Take  a  single  event  that  lately  occurred  as  an 
instance  of  what  is  universally  the  case.  The  Bishop  of  Bir- 
iningham  was  recently  lodged  in  prison  for  other  men's  debts. 
The  world  learnt  to  its  astonishment,  that  the  bishop's  pro- 
perty, witli  Dr.  Moore's,  amounted  to  the  enormous  value  of 
two  hundred  pounds,  Protestant  valuation !  We  do  not 
doubt  that  the  mere  fact  that  Dr.  Ullathorne  w^is  thus 
proved  to  be  about  as  rich  as  a  parish  clerk,  did  as  much  to 
conciliate  the  goodwill  of  candid  men  in  his  diosese,  as  the 
scandalous  exposures  of  Protestant  episcopal  avarice,  which 
from  time  to  time  edify  us  in  the  columns  of  the  anti-Catholic 


How  to  convert  Protestants.  7 

Times,  do  mischief  to  the  cause  of  the  Anglican  Establish- 
ment. 

Nor  is  England  to  be  converted  by  a  semi-Protestantising 
of  Catholic  doctrine,  Catholic  worship,  Catholic  morals,  or 
Catholic  customs.  This  most  mischievous  and  unchristian 
practice  is,  at  the  same  time,  so  often  confounded  with  that 
holy  wisdom  which  ever  seeks  to  present  the  truth  in  the  most 
attractive  form,  that  it  will  be  necessary  to  disentangle  the  two 
questions  from  the  confusion  in  which  they  are  at  times  in- 
volved. Such  disentanglement  follows  instantly  upon  a  recog- 
nition— first,  of  the  great  principle,  that  the  first  duty  of  the 
Church  is  to  her  own  children,  and  her  second  to  the  world  ; 
and  secondly,  of  the  fact,  that  the  occasions  on  which  we  are 
called  to  exercise  these  different  duties  are,/ for  the  most  part, 
practically  distinct.  Whatever,  then,  is  good  for  the  Catholic 
soul,  in  her  vocation,  she  has  a  right  to  expect,  the  general 
welfare  of  the  Church  and  her  spiritual  governors  permitting. 
\i\th  right  to  "worship"  images,  and  if  there  is  no  other  word 
as  expressive  and  correct  as  "  worship"  to  characterise  the  act, 
why  are  Catholics  to  be  defrauded  of  the  aid  to  be  gained  for 
their  souls  by  instruction  in,  and  by  the  practice  of,  this  duty? 
If  we  believe  that,  as  a  fact,  such  and  such  a  miracle  has 
really  been  wrought  by  Divine  power,  how  shall  we  dare  to 
say  that  it  is  better  for  the  interests  of  mankind  that  it 
should  be  kept  a  secret,  lest  unbelievers  should  laugh  at  it, 
and  at  us  for  believing  it?  Does  God  work  miracles  for  no- 
thing, or  for  us  to  judge  of  their  applicability  to  the  circum- 
stances of  the  nineteenth  century  ?  And  the  same  with  many 
another  doctrine  and  practice,  which  it  is  needless  to  detail, 
such  as  the  adoration  and  kissing  of  the  Cross  on  Good 
Friday,  which  some  Catholics  are  ashamed  of,  as  leading  Pro- 
testants to  think  we  are  idolaters.  It  is  not  good  to  take  the 
bread  of  the  children,  and  to  cast  it  to  the  dogs. 

When  we  come  into  contact  with  Protestants  alone,  or 
professedly  with  them  alone,  then  doubtless  another  course 
may  at  times  be  desirable.  No  wise  man  would  press  upon  a 
person  who  was  just  shaken  in  his  Protestantism  those  Ca- 
tholic doctrines  to  which  he  seemed  to  have  a  peculiar  aver- 
sion. In  books,  lectures,  or  any  other  instrument  designed 
specially  for  a  mixed  assemblage,  who  would  make  a  fiery  on- 
slaught on  all  that  Protestants  hold  most  dear  (however  erro- 
neously), unless  he  was  bereft  of  common  tact  and  discretion. 
Who  would  say  to  a  Protestant  all  that  he  would  say  to  a 
brother  Catholic  ?  Take,  for  example,  any  abuse  or  scandal 
he  might  have  heard  of, — such  as  the  misconduct  of  an  eccle- 


8  How  to  convert  Protestants, 

siastic  or  the  disobedience  of  a  layman  ;  the  details  of  such 
an  occurrence  might  be  required  by  justice  or  charity  among 
Catholics,  who  would  not  be  injured  by  hearing  them,  be- 
cause they  know  that  the  grace  of  the  sacraments,  and  the 
vitality  of  the  Church,  do  not  depend  on  individuals ;  while  to 
a  Protestant,  who  is  yet  unable  to  master  the  first  elementary 
ideas  of  a  sacrament,  and  of  the  nature  of  a  visible  Church, 
such  a  story  might  be  seriously  mischievous.  And  why? 
Because  he  would  not  understand  it.  Instead  of  conveying 
truth  to  him,  it  would  convey  error. 

In  fact,  there  are  few  words  more  abused  in  argument  ^ 
than  this  word  "  scandal."  A  Catholic,  who  is  content  to  be 
a  Catholic,  neither  more  nor  less,  is  sometimes  reminded  of 
St.  Paul's  declaration,  that  he  would  eat  no  meat  which  had 
been  offered  to  an  idol,  though  to  eat  such  meat  w^as  perfectly 
lawful,  lest  he  should  "scandalise"  the  weak-minded ;  the  ob- 
jector not  seeing  that  the  heathen  world  universally  recog- 
nised that  act  as  a  test  of  a  man's  faith.  But  the  charges 
usually  made  against  us,  and  which  weak  persons  would  fain 
obviate  by  ceasing  from  certain  practices,  are,  in  the  main, 
true  charges.  We  do  the  very  things  which  Protestants 
scorn,  and  we  glory  in  doing  them.  We  worship  images  in  a 
way  that  Protestants  think  wrong,  but  which  we  know  to  be 
right.  We  believe  in  miracles,  which  Protestants  account 
childish,  but  which  we  knov/  to  be  divine.  How  are  such 
cases  parallel  to  that  of  St.  Paul?  Had  he  eaten  idol-offered 
meats,  he  would  have  been  thought  an  idolater,  which  he  was 
not.  When  we  place  lights  and  flowers  before  an  im.age,  or 
kiss  the  feet  of  a  crucifix,  we  are  thought  to  pay  a  relative 
worship  to  those  objects,  and  ive  do  pay  it.  The  world  thinks 
us  fools,  and  we  are  fools  according  to  the  world's  standard  of 
wisdom. 

It  happens,  too,  that  men  who  are  so  zealous  not  to  give 
what  they  call  scandal  to  Protestants,  are  often  foremost  in 
really  giving  it.  To  mention  a  familiar  instance.  See  the 
actual  result  of  drinking  the  Queen's  health  before  the  Pope's 
at  public  dinners,  as  has  been  so  often  done  to  please  die 
Protestants.  So  far  from  being  edified,  they  are  scandalised, 
as  the  Corinthians  would  have  been  if  St.  Paul  had  eaten  the 
idol-meat.  They  account  us  insincere  when  we  say,  that  we 
regard  the  Pope  as  our  spiritual  ruler,  and  spiritual  things  as 
of  infinitely  greater  moment  than  temporal  things.  They 
take  us  to  mean  that  we  think  the  law  of  the  land,  even 
though  it  clashes  with  the  law  of  the  Church  of  Rome,  which 
tee  hold  to  he  the  law  of  God,  is  to  be  obeyed  as  supreme.  Is 
not  this  a  scandal?     Does  this  edify  the  brethren?     Is  this 


How  to  convert  Protestants,  9 

what  will  convert  England  ?  It  has — it  can  have — but  one 
effect :  it  confirms  men  in  thinking  that  Catholics  are  either 
knaves  or  fools,  or  both. 

Little  more  efficacious  is  what  is  generally  understood  by 
the  term  "controversy."  We  refer,  of  course,  to  its  use  in 
the  innumerable  ways  in  which  it  is,  or  may  be,  employed  in 
our  private  or  public  intercourse  with  our  fellow-countrymen. 
This  intercourse  we  are  all  of  us  incessantly  carrying  on.  In 
tracts,  histories,  novels,  poems,  essays,  newspapers,  reviews, 
conversations,  lectures,  up  to  sermons  themselves — the  entire 
body  of  British  and  Irish  adult  Catholics  are,  at  one  time  or 
other  of  their  lives,  and  each  in  his  station,  tempted  to  em- 
ploy this  readiest  of  all  weapons  to  convince  or  convert  our 
adversaries.  Nothing  is  easier  than  controversy,  though  few 
things  are  so  rare  as  a  good  and  effective  controversialist. 
The  whole  structure  of  Protestantism  is  one  vast  glass  house, 
open  to  the  smashing  of  every  passer-b)'.  There  are  mate- 
rials for  pelting  the  Protestants  ready  in  handfuls.  We  have 
but  to  turn  to  the  columns  of  a  Protestant  newspaper  for  a 
few  weeks  together,  in  order  to  collect  topics  enough  to  dis- 
prove Protestantism  so  certainly  that  argument  can  scarcely 
go  further.  So,  too,  with  the  more  serious  proofs  of  Catho- 
licism, and  disproofs  of  Protestantism,  to  be  gathered  in 
books.  The  veriest  tyro  has  a  magazine  to  his  hand  on  the 
hianble  shelves  of  a  country  Cathiolic  bookseller's  shop,  which 
all  the  learning  and  ingenuity  of  all  the  heretical  teachers  in 
England  will  not  be  equal  to  answer. 

Yet  what  are  the  results  of  controversy  ?  There  are  good 
results  from  it,  and  that  is  all.  It  converts  tens,  where  we 
thought  it  would  convert  thousands.  It  proves  the  turning- 
point  in  the  history  of  one  man's  soul,  while  the  multitude  of 
his  companions  are  totally  unmoved.  And  besides  this,  the 
converts  made  by  controversy  are  too  often  not  half  converted; 
they  are  frequently  at  first  convinced  by  a  partial  knowledge 
of  the  facts  of  the  case,  and  are  carried  away  again  by  the  first 
incursion  of  a  set  of  new  ideas  for  which  controversy  had 
never  prepared  them. 

Controversy  of  any  *kind — biblical,  historical,  dogmatical, 
or  moral — we  apprehend  to  be  useful  only  ivith  the  few.  It  is 
efficacious  with  the  Puseyites,  or  rather  with  only  a  few  even 
of  them  ;  for  numbers  of  this  class  have  been  converted  simply 
by  that  exhibition  of  the  truths  of  revelation,  which  we  be- 
lieve to  be  the  appointed  means  for  converting  the  over- 
whelming mcijority  of  minds.  Controversy  requires,  in  the 
first  place,  a  previous  amount  of  information  on  the  whole  sub- 


10  How  to  convert  Protestants. 

ject,  which  is  confined  to  a  very  small  section ;  in  the  second 
place,  a  capacity  for  thoroughly  entering  into  the  logical 
course  of  arguments  of  various  kinds,  which  is  denied  by  na- 
ture to  the  many;  thirdly,  a  predisposition  to  accept  the  truth 
when  proved.  Unfortunately,  too,  those  who  are  in  them- 
selves best  disposed  to  enter  into  the  real  weight  of  Catholic 
reasoning  are  the  very  classes  with  whom  we  have  practically 
the  least  to  do.  It  is  a  grievous  error  to  look  upon  those 
Protestants  who  have  the  least  objection  to  our  company, 
who  *'  patronise"  our  writings,  who  visit  our  churches,  as  by 
any  means  the  most  fitted  to  enter  into  religious  controversy 
with  any  likelihood  of  their  conversion.  They  fraternise  with 
"US,  and  come  to  stare  at  our  ceremonies,  because  they  have  no 
real  interest  in  religion  at  all.  They  are  tolerant  of  what  they 
think  our  errors,  because  they  care  nothing  for  truth  itself. 
They  are  not  bigoted;  but  it  is  not  because  bigotry  is  odious, 
but  because  tliey  are  not  in  earnest  to  save  their  souls.  They 
smile  at  our  doctrines,  while  better  men  hate  them,  and  will 
not  come  near  us  lest  they  be  infected  with  our  "  poison,** 
and  ensnared  by  our  "craft."  These  are  the  gazing,  irre- 
verent, shilling-paying,  "liberal"  multitudes,  who  swarm  to 
our  large  churches  whenever  any  thing,  as  they  phrase  it,  "  is 
going  on ;"  but  so  far  from  heeding  their  own  souls,  or  caring 
a  rush  for  theological,  historical,  or  biblical  arguments  for 
Catholicism  or  against  Protestantism,  they  would  just  as  soon 
be  moved  by  the  talk  of  an  actor  on  the  stage.  They  go  to  be 
amused;  to  have  their  senses  tickled;  to  see  the  vestments, 
and  smell  the  incense,  and  hear  the  singing;  and  as  for  the 
sermon,  why  it  forms  a  very  appropriate  sort  of  a  feature  of 
the  entire  entertainment,  for  the  English  mind  has  no  notion 
of  a  religious  service  without  some  species  of  discourse. 

Here,  indeed,  lies  our  grand  difficulty, — we  cannot  get  a 
hearing  from  the  best-disposed  classes  of  our  countrymen  ; 
and  the  fact  is  one  of  Satan's  master-pieces.  Whatever  in 
England  is  most  serious,  whatever  is  most  candid,  whatever  is 
best  informed  as  to  the  Bible,  as  to  religious  doctrine  and 
ecclesiastical  history,  keeps  itself  apart  from  us  with  a  jealous 
liorror.  Those  who  can  appreciate  our  arguments,  will  not 
come  in  the  way  of  hearing  them.  They  will  not  listen  in 
conversation,  or  read  our  books,  or  attend  at  our  services. 
They  who  ivish  to  pray,  go  to  their  own  assemblies;  they 
would  not  dream  of  going  to  a  "Romanist  chapel"  for  any 
serious  purpose.  Tliose  who  are  acquainted  with  the  pri- 
vate life  of  English  Protestants,  know  that  there  are  many  of 
them,  especially  of  the  middle  and  upper  classes,  who  practise 
private  prayer  every  day  of  their  lives ;  but  of  these  we  have 


How  to  convert  Protestants.  11 

no  doubt  that  scarcely  any  ever  come  near  a  Catholic  church, 
or  read  a  Catholic  book.  The  majority  of  them  have  never 
even  seen  a  crucifix,  unless  they  have  travelled  abroad. 

The  happy  results  of  the  Puseyite  movement,  which  at 
first  sight  may  appear  to  prove  a  large  exception  to  our 
general  statement,  are,  in  fact,  a  confirmation  of  its  truth. 
The  Puseyite  movement  towards  the  Church  was  not  pro- 
duced by  the  English  Catholic  body.  It  rose,  so  to  say, 
spontaneously;  and  by  the  force  of  their  own  convictions  were 
the  adherents  of  the  new  school  led  on  and  on  to  the  unex- 
pected threshold.  A  few — we  believe,  a  very  few — came  into 
serious  contact  with  Catholic  controversialists,  or  rather  with 
a  Catholic  controversialist,  for  if  we  remember  right.  Cardinal 
Wiseman  was  the  only  writer  who  could  be  said  to  have 
helped  on  the  work,  and  most  happy  for  the  Puseyites  it  was 
that  he  did  so.  But  of  those  who  have  been  converted,  it  is 
remarkable  that  numbers  never  entered  a  Catholic  church  in 
England  before  the  day  of  their  conversion.  The  very  sin- 
cerity with  which  they  sought  to  find  the  one  true  church 
kept  them  in  sole  and  close  connection  with  the  community 
in  which  they  were  brought  up,  until  the  hour  when  they 
were  convinced  that  she  was  not  their  true  mother,  but  a 
deceiver,  who  had  stolen  them  in  their  infancy. 

Controversy,  then,  we  conceive  to  be  a  means  of  conversion 
for  the  learned  and  for  the  few.  God  has  not  made  the  mul- 
titude capable  of  rational  controversy  ;  and  a  wide-spread  de- 
lusion banishes  the  religious  portion  of  England  from  Catholic 
society  and  Catholic  services.  We  never  sympathise,  there- 
fore, with  the  regrets  that  may  at  times  be  heard  expressed 
by  some  zealous  Catholic  who  has  induced  a  Protestant  friend 
to  accompany  him  to  a  Catholic  chapel,  and  has  been  dis- 
appointed because  the  priest  has  preached  a  straightforward 
sermon  on  doctrine  or  morals,  without  one  syllable  of  pole- 
mics, when  he  had  been  in  hopes  of  seeing  his  friend's  creed 
demolished  by  a  display  of  controversial  power.  It  often 
happens,  especially  with  people  recently  converted,  that  they 
fancy  that  nothing  on  earth  is  wanted  to  convert  this  or  that 
person  among  their  friends  than  that  he  should  just  hear  what 
is  to  be  said  in  defence  of  Catholicity  and  against  Protes- 
tantism. He  sees  the  argument  to  be  so  irresistible,  that  he 
conceives  every  body  whom  he  loves  or  regards  must  find  it 
the  same.  And  so  he  is  disappointed  that  Catholic  sermons 
are  not  like  so  many  cannons  loaded  to  the  mouth  with  logic, 
to  be  shot  forth  week  after  week,  to  blow  the  head  off"  from 
every  stray  heretic   who   may  chance   to   come  within   their 


|£  How  to  convert  Protestants. 

We  are  sure,  on  the  contrary,  that  we  shall  be  borne  out 
bv  every  priest  \s\\o  has  been  most  successful  in  converting 
the  Pro'testant  Englishman  and  Englishwoman,  when  we  con- 
clude, that  if  England  is  to  be  converted,  it  will  be  by  the 
declaration  of  the  doctrines  of  the  Catholic  faith  as  the  word  of 
God  sent  to  save  men's  souls ;  or,  which  is  the  same  thing,  by- 
treating  our  fellow-countrymen,  not  as  Protestants  but  as  sin- 
ners. And  in  order  to  do  this  with  effect,  whether  in  conver- 
sation, writing,  or  by  any  other  means,  it  is  obvious  that  our 
first  object  must  be  to  master  the  peculiar  condition  of  the 
English  mind  with  respect  to  Almighty  God  and  His  revela- 
tion. So  far  as  this  question  relates  to  *^  preaching,"  pro- 
perly so  called,  the  subject  is  not  strictly  suited  to  our  pages. 
The*  principles,  however,  on  which  we  who  are  the  laity 
should  act  in  such  matters  being  identical  witli  that  which  is 
involved  in  the  direct  preaching-work  of  the  clergy,  it  is  as  ne- 
cessary to  state  it,  as  if  our  function  were  of  a  more  grave  and 
ecclesiastical  character.  The  kindness  of  our  clerical  readers 
will  therefore,  we  are  sure,  excuse  us,  if  in  what  we  sa}^  we 
seem  to  be  trenching  on  ground  which  belongs  to  them  alone. 
We  are  obliged  to  seem  to  do  this,  because  we  feel  convinced 
that  a  ihorouglily  accurate  appreciation  of  the  national  mind 
is  as  essential  to  the  success  of  the  humbler  efforts  of  lay 
writing,  lecturing,  and  talking,  as  to  the  authoritative  exposi- 
tion of  Catholic  doctrine  which  is  committed  to  the  clergy. 
And  it  is  the  more  important  that  we  should  all  of  us  be  mas- 
ters of  our  work,  because  the  enormous  demands  made  by  the 
circumstances  of  the  day  on  the  time  and  strength  of  the  clergy 
throws  so  much  of  the  work  of  lecturing  and  writing  upon  the 
hands  of  the  laity. 

Our  first  aim,  then,  must  be  to  enter  thoroughly  into  the 
English  Protestant  character  as  it  exists  living  around  us. 
Without  this,  we  shall  be  mere  book-controversialists,  than 
whom  none  are  more  profitless.  A  book-controversialist  (by 
which  we  mean  a  man  whose  knowledge  of  the  subject  is  de- 
rived from  books  only,  and  not  from  men  as  well  as  books)  we 
all  know  to  be  the  most  unfruitful  of  disputants.  He  is  like 
an  amateur  lawyer,  or  an  amateur  doctor;  or  a  man  who 
would  undertake  to  guide  souls  from  treatises  on  moral  theo- 
logy alone,  without  any  personal  acquaintance  with  the  spiri- 
tual life  itself.  We  might  as  reasonably  expect  to  walk  out 
into  tlie  fields  and  bring  down  a  covey  of  partridges  by  firing 
off  a  volley  of  small  shot  ha])-hazard  into  the  air,  as  to  convince 
or  convert  a  room  full  of  listeners  by  discharging  a  volley  of 
abstract  arguments  in  their  faces.  The  great  secret  of  con- 
viction and  persuasion  lies  in  a  knowledge  of  the  opponents* 


How  to  convert  Protestants.  AS 

state  of  mind.  It  is  like  sympathy  when  we  would  console  a 
mourner. 

Setting  aside,  then,  the  more  religious  few  among  English 
Protestants,  who  are  precisely  those  who  most  diligently  avoid 
ns,  our  books,  and  our  churches,  the  peculiar  condition  of  the 
English  mind  is  to  be  traced  to  a  long-continued  operation 
of  the  two  Lutheran  doctrines  on  private  judgment  and  justi- 
fication by  faith  without  works,  working  upon  the  inborn  evil 
of  our  nature.  The  action  of  these  doctrines,  all  observation 
shows  us,  is  not  confined  to  those  Protestants  who  more  or 
less  profess  to  be  Lutherans,  Evangelicals,  Calvinists,  or  what 
not.  A  certain  definite  influence  has  been  exerted  by  the  pre- 
valence of  these  doctrines  on  the  whole  English  nature,  moral 
and  intellectual,  as  regards  Almighty  God,  of  the  widest  and 
deepest  possible  extent,  corrupting  the  whole  soul  in  its  very 
primary  ideas,  and  creating  a  state  of  feeling  opposed  to  the 
essential  elements  of  all  religion.  This  condition  of  mind  is 
not  merely  antagonistic  to  Catholicism,  or  to  this  or  that  dis- 
tinctive doctrine  of  revelation,  or  to  this  or  that  moral  law;  it 
is  a  radical  unconsciousness  of  the  very  nature  of  all  religion, 
that  is,  of  natural  religion  itself. 

What  is  our  first  essential  idea  of  religion,  as  such  ?  Is  it 
not  this,  that  God  is  all,  and  man  is  nothing  ?  That  being 
formed  from  nothingness  by  our  omnipotent  Creator,  purely 
according  to  His  own  pleasure  and  for  His  own  glory  (all- 
merciful  as  is  His  intention  towards  us),  man  has  no  rights 
tov/ards  God,  and  that  the  first  act  of  the  human  soul  ought 
to  be  a  prostration  of  itself  before  the  will  of  God,  and  an 
utter  annihilation  of  its  own  will  ?  Until  we  do  this,  we  have 
no  religion,  we  can  have  no  religion. 

But  of  all  this,  with  (as  we  repeat)  certain  individual  ex- 
ceptions, the  English  people  is  totalh^  unconscious.  The  old 
Greek  and  Roman  was  not  so  unconscious  of  it;  the  modern 
pagan  is  not  so  unconscious,  for  his  idolatry  is  not  based  on  a 
Lutheran  negation  of  the  rights  of  the  Almighty  Creator;  but 
England  has  no  God,  She  has  ideas  about  God,  but  she  has 
no  ideas,  except  those  suggested  by  the  devil,  towards  God. 
Her  elementary  idea,  her  deeply-rooted  conviction,  is,  that 
she  has  rights  towards  her  Maker  ;  that  the  proper  attitude 
of  a  rational  being  is  a  kind  of  independent  position,  from 
which,  with  shrewd  or  philosophical  discernment,  he  is  to 
choose  his  faith,  or  compile  it,  or  modify  it;  and  that  the 
spiritual  intercourse  which  he  is  to  practise  with  his  God,  is 
similar  in  kind  with  that  which  a  man  practises  towards  a 
superior  being  bearing  some  sort  of  proportion  towards  him- 
self.    No  man  can  have  much  experience  in  religious  conver- 


14  Hoio  to  convert  Protestants,     , 

sation  or  controversy  with  Protestants,  without  seeing,  even  in 
the  most  amiable,  the  most  moral,  the  most  apparently  reli- 
gious among  them,  a  tendency  to  rebel  against  the  very  notion 
that  absolute,  unconditional,  eternal  suhmission  of  body,  soul, 
and  spirit,  is  the  first  duty  of  the  wisest,  the  noblest,  the  ablest, 
the  most  learned,  the  most  illustrious  of  mortal  men.  In  ad- 
dition to  all  their  heresies,  their  love  of  sin,  their  fondness  for 
the  world,  their  personal  pride,  they  are  possessed  with  a  kind 
of  loathing  of  that  prostration  of  the  entire  being,  which  they 
call  abjecty  but  which  we  know  to  be  the  everlasting  obliga- 
tion and  most  perfectly  rational  act,  of  every  cridnture,  from 
the  ^Mother  of  God  herself  to  the  youngest  child  in  whom 
reason  is  but  beginning  to  dawn. 

Paganism  did  not  this.  It  had  its  own  frightful  corrup- 
tions, debasing  doctrines,  and  monstrous  falsehoods  ;  but  it  did 
not  start  by  claiming  for  man  certain  rights  towards  his  Creator 
which  no  creature  can  possess.  Paganism  sought  to  localise 
the  Omnipresent,  to  divide  Him  who  is  in  essence  One,  to  de- 
moralise the  All-Holy  ;  and  from  all  this,  Protestantism  starts 
with  supposed  horror ;  but  in  casting  oif  the  corruptions  of 
Paganism,  it  casts  oif  the  very  idea  of  God,  except  as  an  ab- 
stract conception,  a  matter  of  opinion,  a  subject  for  specula- 
tion, a  Being  towards  whom  man  can  choose  his  own  rela- 
tions. 

Hence  the  threefold  delusion  of  Protestantism,  on  the  great 
subjects  of  revelation — faith,  duty,  and  worship.  The  moment 
a  man  has  grasped  the  elementary  idea  of  all  religion,  his  first 
act,  on  recognising  his  own  nothingness,  is  to  seek  simply  for 
the  will  of  God  as  He  has  revealed  it.  The  Protestant  mind, 
on  the  contrary,  is  possessed  with  the  notion  that  its  first  duty 
is  to  frame  a  theological  creed  from  a  certain  book,  or  from 
certain  historical  documents.  Thus  ||ie  characteristic  of  the 
Catholic  intellect  is,  from  the  first,  humility;  of  the  Protes- 
tant, self-complacency.  To  the  humble  intellect  grace  gives 
faith  ;  the  self-complacent  is  left  to  its  own  devices  ;  and  hence, 
in  the  one  case,  a  knowledge  of  God  and  His  revelation  ;  in 
the  other,  ten  thousand  varying  shades  of  opinion. 

In  morals  it  is  the  same.  I  am  the  creature  of  God's  will; 
therefore  for  me  to  have  a  will  of  my  own  is  madness;  one 
course  remains  for  me,  namely,  duty;  and  in  doing  my  duty, 
the  sole  question  is,  what  has  God  revealed  ?  I  can  have  no 
other  standard.  Thus  reasons  a  Catholic.  The  Protestant 
tlieory  of  morals,  on  the  other  hand,  is  a  jumble  of  biblical 
criticism,  modern  tastes,  intellectual  refinement,  natural  pas- 
sions, and  individual  fancies.  In  details,  it  is  sometimes  right, 
and  sometimes  wrong ;  but  in  its  basis  it  is  always  wrong,  for 


.  Hoiv  to  c invert  Protestants,  15 

more  or  less  it  recognises  a  man's  own  opinions  and  tastes  as 
the  standard  of  duty.  It  does  not  recognise  the  indefeasible 
right  of  the  Creator  to  the  possession  of  every  thought,  word, 
and  work  of  His  creatures. 

And  in  the  idea  of  worship,  the  same  fatal  fundamental 
fault  issues  in  similar  errors  in  details.      iVe  know  that  the 
essence  of  religious  worship  consists  in  acts  of  voluntary  and 
absolute  prostration  of  our  whole   being  before  our  infinite 
and  eternal  God.     Thus,  in  one  sense,  we  are   always  wor- 
shipping Him ;  not  only  in  prayers,  masses,  benedictions,  acts 
of  adoration,  thanksgivings,  confessions,  and  sacraments,  but 
by  penances,  sufferings,  and  even  by  the  most  trivial  actions 
and  thoughts  of  our  daily  lives.     The  Protestant  theory  of 
worship  is  confined  to  a  species  of  intercourse  between  man 
and  his  God,  necessarily  and  exclusively  expressed  in  words, 
either  uttered  or  spoken  silently  by  the  mind  alone.     The  im- 
mense majority  of  our  fellow- countrymen  cannot  understand 
any  other  kind  of  worship  besides  this.     They  regard  our 
ceremonies,  our  functions,  our  music,  as  so  many  portions  of  a 
superb  pageant,  got  up  for  show  only,  as  a  grand  theatrical 
spectacle,  very  *'  imposing,"  as  the  cant  phrase  runs,  but  by 
no  stretch  of  language  to  be  termed  a  spiritual  worship.    Hence 
they  can  make  nothing  at  all  of  our  services.     If  they  are  not 
shocked,  they  are  puzzled  ;  if  they  are  not  disgusted,  they  are 
only  amused  ;  if  they  do  not  sneer  bitterly,  they  smile  amiably. 
They  cannot  make  us  out :  we  are  such  a  combination  of  the 
grand,  the  trifling,  the  noble,  the  irrational,  the  lofty,  the  vul- 
gar, the  profound,  the  silly,  the  sincere,  and  the  deceptive, 
that  the  most  charitable  conclusion  they  can  come  to  is,  that. 
"  the  Catholics"  are  the  strangest  and  most  incomprehensible- 
people  on  the  face  of  the  earth.     If  they  are  not  charitably 
disposed,  there  is  no  limit  to  their  philosophical  criticisms.. 
"The idea  of  worshipping  God  wuth  a  candle!  with  a  bunch  of 
flowers!  with  the  smoke  of  incense!  was  there  ever  any  thino- 
so  childish,  so  inconceivably  absurd  ?     There  is  a  troop  of 
priests"  (for  in  the  eyes  of  the  Protestant  critic,  every  body 
that  wears  a  surplice  or  a  cassock  is  a  priest),  "  bowing,  and 
gesticulating,  and  walking  to  and  fro,  and  singing  fragments 
of  Latin,  and  taking  ofi'  mitres  and  vestments,  and   putting 
them  on  again,  and  sprinkling  water,  and  lighting  candles,  and 
making  signs  over  books ;  and  while  all  this  goes  on  at  the 
altar,  there  is  half  the  congregation  staring  at  them  with  awe- 
struck gaze,  venerating  them  with  superstitious  honour,  and 
thinking  that  all  this  *  mummery'  is  something  wonderfully 
holy  and  mysterious,  and  that  this  is  the  fulfilment  of  the 

VOL.  I. — NEW  SERIES.  C 


16  How  to  ccnvert  Proiesia::ts, 

*  pure  and  simple  morality  of  the  Gospel/  "  Such  are  the 
thoughts,  more  or  less,  of  nearly  every  one  of  the  multitude 
of  visitors  who  occasionally  crowd  our  churches  and  annoy 
our  congregations.  That  all  this  is  t/ie  icorship  of  God,  they 
cannot  conceive  ;  it  does  not  even  occur  to  them  to  ask  whether 
we  think  it  so  ourselves;  we  cannot  think  it  so,  we  do  not 
even  profess  to  think  it  so,  is  their  unanimous  opinion.  It  is 
all  a  pageant,  unspiritual,  irrational,  fit  for  priests  who  live  by 
it,  and  for  women  and  children  who  are  weak  or  ignorant;  but 
to  pass  it  upon  the  shrewd,  sensible,  solid  English  race  as  a 
''spiritual  worship,"  as  the  natural  expression  of  the  self-sacri- 
ficing homage  of  an  immortal  spirit  towards  a  God  who  is 
Himself  a  Spirit,  is  too  large  a  tax  upon  English  good-nature 
and  English  candour. 

Such,  we  are  convinced,  on  the  whole,  is  the  attitude  of 
the  average  English  mind  towards  Almighty  God  and  His 
Church  on  earth.  And  if  it  is  so,  it  follows  that  no  progress 
can  be  made  towards  its  conversion,  except  by  such  an  exhi- 
bition of  the  truths  of  religion  as  may  go  straight  to  the  root 
of  the  mischief,  lay  bare  the  secrets  of  the  diseased  heart  to 
the  awakening  conscience,  and  bring  the  whole  man,  body, 
soul,  and  spirit,  humbled  as  a  sinner  before  the  throne  of 
God,  or  rather  let  us  say,  before  the  foot  of  the  cross.  For 
if  it  is  permitted  us  to  suppose  that  it  is  more  necessary  at 
one  time  than  at  another,  to  show  how  God  is  manifest  in 
Christ,  rather  than  to  dwell  upon  His  presence  and  attributes 
apart  from  the  incarnation  and  death  of  the  Eternal  Son,  surely 
there  never  was  a  case  in  which  it  was  more  needful  to  display 
God  171  Christ,  than  it  is  to  this  EngHsh  people  at  this  O^^y. 
Doubtless  individual  exceptions  w^ill  occur ;  but  few  who 
know  English  Protestantism  as  it  is  can  doubt  that  it  is  be- 
fore the  Cross  that  its  pride  will  be  brought  low,  and  its  igno- 
rance enlightened.  We  cannot  drive  the  English  race ;  we 
may  scold  them  for  ever  in  vain  ;  we  may  reason  with  them 
till  they  die ;  we  may  reproach  them,  we  may  convict  them  of 
every  sin  and  every  inconsistency ;  one  thing  alone  will  touch 
them ;  one  thing  alone  will  soften  their  hearts  and  melt  the 
adamantine  bulwark  which  pride  and  passion  have  built  up 
around  their  souls.  It  is  before  God  dying  on  the  cross  for 
them  that  they  will  yield.  Love  will  draw  them,  while  fear 
will  only  terrily  them,  and  despair  drive  them  closer  into  the 
arms  of  their  enemy.  It  is  the  sight  of  the  blood  of  Jesus, 
and  the  ineffable  loving-kindiuss  which  ever  burns  in  that 
adorable  heart  whence  that  life-blood  flowed,  pointed  out  to 


Hoiv  to  convert  Protest aiits,  17 

them  by  that  Church  which  is  commissioned  to  declare  its 
wonderful  reality,  and  to  dispense  its  fruits,  which  will  touch 
England,  and  bring  her  to  cast  away  her  self-worship,  as  the 
Druids  of  old  flung  their  idols  to  the  fire,  and  return  to  the 
bosom  of  that  mother  where  alone,  little  as  England  thinks  it, 
Christ  is  to  be  found  in  all  His  glory  and  all  His  love. 

Of  abstract  reasoning  on  the  fundamental  doctrines  of 
natural  religion  and  of  revelation,  the  great  mass  of  the  world 
is  incapable.  They  cannot  enter  into  it.  God  is  hidden  from 
their  eyes,  and  they  must  learn  to  see  Him  as  He  has  revealed 
Himself  in  the  Incarnate  Son.  Before  that  awful  and  over- 
whelming sight,  before  Jesus  dying,  the  whole  edifice  which 
Satan  has  constructed  will  waste  away.  The  conscience  will 
learn  what  sin  is,  what  God  is,  what  heaven  and  hell  are,  what 
the  sinner  must  do  to  be  saved,  and  to  whom  he  must  have 
recourse  as  the  ministers  of  reconciliation.  The  whole  spiri- 
tual glory  of  the  edifice  of  the  Catholic  Church  will  be  un- 
veiled before  the  anxious  soul,  as  the  great  treasure-house  of 
the  merits  of  Christ.  Self-abasement,  faith,  love,  obedience, 
will  spring  up  as  it  were  spontaneously  in  the  heart  hitherto 
callous  to  every  Catholic  emotion.  The  inconceivable  false- 
hood and  folly  of  the  popular  Protestant  notion  of  Catholicism, 
as  a  religion  of  priestcraft,  formalism,  and  unspiritual  display, 
will  be  so  palpable  to  the  understanding,  that  it  will  marvel 
how  it  ever  could  have  been  so  grossly  deceived. 

This  particular  delusion,  indeed,  is  the  one  chief  obstacle, 
so  far  as  mere  opinion  is  concerned,  against  which  we  have  to 
contend.  The  dislike  entertained  by  Protestants  to  various 
distinct  Catholic  doctrines  and  practices  is  comparatively  no- 
thing, in  regard  to  that  intense  conviction  with  which  the 
whole  nation  is  possessed,  that  Catholicism  is  a  huge  heap  of 
rules,  forms,  ceremonies,  and  traditions,  whose  object  and  ten- 
dency is  to  control  man  as  a  seivant,  and  not  to  glorify  Jesus 
Christ,  and  to  convey  His  grace  and  love  to  the  penitent  sinner. 
And  this  being  so,  whatever  we  write  and  say  in  the  way  of 
explanation  of  what  Catholicism  is  not,  must  be  subsidiary  to 
our  declarations  of  what  Catholicism  is.  Negative  proofs  are 
little  worth.  It  avails  little  to  show  that  we  are  not  idolaters, 
not  inconsistent,  not  hypocritical,  not  false,  not  impure.  Men 
must  see  what  Catholicism  is,  and  what  we  are.  And  this  is 
not  to  be  done  by  dry  abstract  statements  of  doctrine  or  history, 
by  mere  dilutions  of  theological  treatises  "  on  the  Church,"  or 
by  disquisitions  on  the  refinements  of  casuistry.  Men  do  not 
want  disquisitions  ;  they  want  to  know  how  to  be  saved.  They 
want  to  know  who  is  to   save  them.     The  conversion  of  a 


18  How  to  convert  Protestants, 

Protestant  is  a  totally  different  thing  from  the  instruction  of 
a  young,  or  ill-informed  but  sincere  Catholic.  The  Catholic 
has  the  foundation;  he  has  i'aith,  love,  obedience;  he  knows 
God  ;  he  knows  Jesus  Christ ;  he  venerates  Mary  and  tlie 
Saints  for  the  sake  of  Jesus  Christ;  he  loves  the  Sacraments, 
because  they  convey  to  him  the  gifts  of  Jesus  Christ.  Hence 
his  instruction  mainly  consists  in  an  extended  exposition  of  the 
manifold  details  of  those  truths  which  he  has  already  grasped 
in  their  essential  elements. 

But  the  Protestant  knows  nothing  of  Christ  but  the  name. 
His  knowledge  has  to  start  with  the  very  foundations  of  the 
Gospel,  while  the  deadness  in  sin  which  paralyses  him  requires 
that  this  knowledge  must  come  to  him  in  a  directly  practical 
and  personal  form ;  literall}',  as  "  the  Gospel ;"  the  news  that 
God  is  all-hol}^,  all-just,  and  all-merciful ;  that  he  himself  is 
a  sinner,  actually  perishing;  that  he  need  not  perish;  that  a 
Saviour  exists  for  him ;  and  thai  this  Saviour  is  liere,  in  the 
Sacraments  of  the  forgotten,  insulted,  despised  Church  of 
Rome ;  and  that  the  popish  priest,  whom  all  England  glories 
in  scorning,  comes  direct  as  the  messenger  from  the  God  who 
died  for  him, — can  apply  the  precious,  all-c]eansing  blood  to 
the  terrified  soul,  and  bring  it  to  adore  that  God  still  in- 
visibly, but  really  and  locally  present  on  earth,  to  receive  the 
tears,  the  thanksgivings,  the  prayers,  and  the  homage  of  every 
creature  who  will  come  out  from  the  mad,  blinded  multitude 
to  this  home  of  peace  and  rest. 

If  it  be  said  that  this  is  too  directly  theological  a  mode  of 
treating  the  subject,  to  be  generally  applicable  to  any  thing 
but  actual  sermons  or  professedly  religious  conversation,  we 
venture  to  reply  that  we  think  otherwise.  Undoubtedly  what 
is  called  reproachfully  "  preaching,"  in  books,  tracts,  periodi- 
cals, lectures,  and  private  talk,  is  generally  a  violation  of  good 
taste,  and  practically  useless,  if  not  injurious.  But  we  mean 
nothing  of  this  kind  by  the  mode  which  we  suggest  for  the 
treatment  of  the  Protestant  mind.  It  will  not  do  to  make 
direct  and  open  attacks  on  people's  consciences,  any  more 
than  on  their  consistency.  You  must  not  tell  a  man  that  he 
is  a  knave,  any  more  than  ycu  may  tell  him  he  is  a  fool.  But 
there  are  a  tliousand  little  ways  in  which  the  Catholic,  in 
speaking  or  writing,  can  make  it  felt  that  what  he  means  is 
not  merely  that  the  Catholic  Church  is  rij^ht  and  Protestants 
wrong,  but  that  He  who  saves  men  is  with  us  and  not  with 
otlicrs;  and  that  we  love  the  Church,  not  merely  because  it 
is  not  opposed  to  the  glory  and  merits  of  Christ,  but  because 
it  exists  for  His  glory,  and  in  order  to  dispense  His  merits. 


The  Female  Jesuit  ahrcad.  19 

All  this  may  be  implied  in  the  efforts  of  Catholics  of  all  classes 
for  the  conversion  of  their  fellow-countrymen,  as  easily  and 
with  as  much  unpretending  good  taste  and  feeling  as  we 
cultivate  when  we  employ  any  class  of  mere  arguments  in 
favour  of  the  Catholic  faith.  Let  a  man  once  clearly  see  his 
way  towards  the  end  he  aims  at,  and  be  inspired  by  a  love  for 
his  fellows,  and  be  guided  by  delicacy  of  feeling,  modesty,  and 
charity,  in  all  that  he  does  for  them,  and  he  will  find  many 
ways  of  letting  them  feel  what  he  means,  without  giving  more 
offence  than  naturally  accompanies  every  thing  that  belongs 
to  the  Cross. 


THE  FEMALE  JESUIT  ABKOAD. 

The  Female  Jesuit  abroad;  a  true  and  romantic  Narrative  of 
Real  Life :  including  some  Account^  with  historical  Reminis- 
cences, of  Bonn  and  the  Middle  Rhine,  By  Charles  Seager, 
M.A.    London,  Partridge  and  Oakey. 

To  those  who  made  acquaintance  with  the  young  lady,  intro- 
duced to  the  public  about  two  years  ago  under  the  title  of 
the  Female  Jesuit,  the  supplement  to  her  history,  contained  in 
the  present  volume,  will  be  very  acceptable  ;  though  we  re- 
gret to  say  that  the  story,  an  excellent  one  in  itself,  is  some- 
what spoilt  in  the  telling.  It  is  any  thing  but  skilfully  drawn 
up,  being  in  some  places  spun  out  into  tiresome  prolixity,  and 
in  others  provokingly  curtailed ;  the  facts,  too,  are  not  easy  to 
follow  ;  and  the  never-ending  analysis  of  motives  and  feelings, 
which  accompanies  them,  as  a  running  commentary,  from  one 
end  of  the  book  to  the  other,  makes  it  altogether  quite  a  piece 
of  tough  reading.  This,  however,  is  a  venial  fault  in  com- 
parison with  another  which  is  indicated  in  the  very  title-page ; 
namely,  the  mixing  up  with  the  main  narrative  a  large  quan- 
tity of  foreign  matter,  altogether  irrelevant,  and  even  incon- 
gruous. It  has  been  a  great  mistake,  and  one  which  we  fear 
will  prove  fatal  to  the  general  popularity  of  the  book,  to  dilute 
the  adventures  of  the  Female  Jesuit  with  "  historical  reminis- 
cences of  Bonn  and  the  Middle  Rhine ;"  for  we  are  much  too 
curious  about  the  former  to  be  in  a  temper  of  mind  capable  of 
appreciating  the  latter,  however  edifying:  and  we  cannot  but 
feel  our  main  pursuit  unwarrantably  interfered  with,  when 


3(y  The  Female  Jesuit  abroad, 

we  are  called  off  from  watching  the  evolving  fortunes  of  our 
heroine,  and  required  to  pause,  and  inform  ourselves  that  Co- 
logne is  the  Colonia  Agrippina  of  the  Romans,  &c.,  to  master 
the  history  of  Coblenz,  and  to  wade  through  whole  chapters 
of  the  guide-book  sort,  with  reference  to  places  in  no  way  con- 
nected with  the  said  heroine,  further"  tlian  that  they  were  vi- 
sited by  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Seager  in  her  company.  It  is  as  though 
the  biographer  of  Becky  Sharp  had  taken  advantage  of  her 
temporary  sojourn  at  Brussels  to  give  us  a  political  essay  on 
the  causes  and  consequences  of  the  Battle  of  Waterloo :  for 
the  story  of  our  Becky  Sharp,  though  unhappily  too  true  as 
regards  poor  Mr.  Seager,  yet  bears  the  character  of  fiction  ;  it 
is,  in  fact,  a  fiction,  a  novel  in  action  of  the  most  exciting  cha- 
racter ;  and  accordingly  we  claim  for  it,  as  such,  the  immu- 
nity due  to  light  reading,  and  feel  as  much  affronted  at  being 
cheated  by  it  into  useful  knowledge,  as  a  child  whose  gilt- 
edged  story-book  has  suddenly  become  transformed  into  a 
treatise  on  English  grammar.  But  the  truth  is,  the  solid 
matter  is  much  more  in  Mr.  Seager's  line  than  the  romance, 
which  has  been  thrust  upon  him  by  circumstances ;  and  so  we 
ought  to  be  very  much  obliged  to  "  the  son  of  the  celebrated 
Hellenist,"  the  quondam  Hebrew  lecturer  of  Oxford,  for  having 
condescended  to  tell  us  the  story  at  all,  instead  of  grumbling 
that  he  has  mixed  it  up  with  matter  more  congenial  to  him : 
and  indeed,  as  he  tells  us  (page  195)  that  he  has  been  in  the 
habit,  **  longer  than  they  can  remember,"  of  talking  Latin  to 
his  two  little  boys,  aged  seven  and  five,  we  may  feel  very 
thankful  that  we  are  let  off  with  only  a  little  history  and  geo- 
graphy more  than  we  bargained  for. 

The  work  before  us,  moreover,  has  a  value  quite  indepen- 
dent of  its  character  as  an  amusing  narrative,  inasmuch  as  it 
furnishes  a  triumphant  answer  to  the  accusations  put  forth  to 
the  world  in  the  original  book ;  accusations  most  gratuitously 
made,  and  we  must  say  most  unwarrantably  persisted  in,  and  at 
last  retracted,  if  at  all,  with  apparent  reluctance,  or  at  least  by 
no  means  with  the  free  and  full  and  repentant  acknowledgment 
of  error  which  we  think  the  case  required.  But  we  will  recapi- 
tulate the  facts,  and  our  readers  shall  judge  for  themselves. 

It  was  the  evening  of  Thursday,  January  the  17th,  1849. 
**  A  cheerful  fire,"  we  are  told,  "  was  blazing  on  the  hearth  of 
a  house  in  Cromwell  Terrace,  at  the  extreme  west-end  of 
London  ;**  and  a  family-party,  consisting  of  a  lady,  her  two 
sisters,  and  a  lively,  warm-hearted  little  girl  not  quite  five 
years  old,  were  looking  out  for  the  return  of  the  master  of  the 
house  from  the  chapel  in  Orange  Street,  Leicester  Square,  of 


The  Female  Jesuit  abroad.  21 

which  he  was  the  pastor.     "  The  shppers  had  long  waited  on 
the  rug,  and  the  cloth  on   the  table ;"  and  "  anxiety  was  just 
giving  place  to  alarm  at  the  unprecedented  lateness  of  his  re- 
turn," when  "  his  knock  was  heard,  and  their  fears  were  dis- 
pelled."    He  came  in  ;  but  instead  of  accounting  for  his  late 
arrival,  sat  down  in  his  arm-chair  in  unusual  silence,  and  it 
soon  became  manifest  to  the  family  mind  that  the  minister 
had  met  with  an  adventure.      After  some  little  pumping,  he 
admitted  that  he  had,  and  promised  that  he  would  "  tell  them 
all,"  only  stipulating  that  he  should  first  be  allowed  to  eat  his 
supper.     The  supper  was  eaten,  and  then  Mr.  Luke,  for  such 
was  the  name  of  the  evangelist  of  Lock  Chapel,  gratified  the 
ladies  with  a  truly  interesting  narrative.     He  was    "  taking 
his  tea"  in  the  vestr}^,  just  before  service,  when  a  young  lady 
was  ushered  in,  who  desired  to  speak  to  him.      She  introduced 
herself  by  the  name  of  Marie  Garside  ;  said  she  had  been  edu- 
cated partly  in  the  convent  of  the  Faithful  Companions  of  Jesus 
at  Isleworth,  partly  in  convents  of  the  same  order  abroad,  and 
indeed  was  now  a  postulant  for  admission  into  the  sisterhood ; 
for  though  looking  forward  to  the  life  of  a  nun  with  unquali- 
fied  disgust,  she   had  felt   herself  so  constrained  by  the  last 
wishes  of  a  dying  mother   and  the  will  of  a  living  uncle,  a 
Jesuit  priest,  as  to  have  no  choice.     Of  late,  however,  she  had 
"  become  gradually  but  fully  convinced  of  the  errors  of  Ro- 
manism, and  intensely  longed  for  the  light  of  God's  truth  and 
the  liberty  of  the  Gospel."     It  was  only  on  that  very  morning, 
that,  travelling  in  an  omnibus  from  the  convent  of  Isleworth 
to  that  at  Somers  Town,  where  she  had  been  sent  to  remain  for 
some  days,  she  had  providentially  met  with  a  fellow-traveller, 
who  discovering  her  to  be  a  Catholic,  had  improved  the  occa- 
sion by  enlightening  her  as  to  the  errors  of  the  Church,  and 
had  recommended  her  to  seek  advice  of  some  Protestant  min- 
ister, naming  Mr.  Luke,  and  giving  her  the  address  both  of 
his   house  and  chapel.      To   the  chapel  accordingly  she  had 
come,  to  declare  to  him  the  state  of  her  mind,  and  to  implore 
his  guidance  and  support  in  the  difficult  course  that  lay  before 
her.     Mr.  Luke  presented  her  with  a  New  Testament,   "  the 
first  she  had  ever  held  in  her  hand,"  and  desired  her  to  call 
at  his  house  the  next  day,  if  she  could  escape  the  surveillance 
of  those   Argus-eyed  nuns,  who  had  allowed  her,   though  a 
postulant,   to   travel    about    in   omnibuses  with    only  a  com- 
panion outside,  and  who  had  obviously  interposed  no  effectual 
impediment  to  her  finding  her  way  to  a  chapel  in  London  at 
six  o'clock  in  the  evening  in  the  month  of  January. 

Whether  this  circumstance  seemed  suspicious,  as  well  it 


ot)  The  Female  Jesuit  ahroad, 

might,  or  whether  the  name  of  Marie  sounded  too  poetical  to 
be  probable,  we  are  not  told;  but  so  it  was,  that  the  minister's 
helpmate  was  not  so  altogether  satisfied  as  the  minister  him- 
self. "  I  should  like  to  see  and  talk  to  her  m3'self,"  said  she 
to  her  husband;  "  there  have  been  so  many  impostors,  that  it 
disposes  me  to  be  sceptical :  I  think  you  are  rather  apt  to  be 
taken  in,  dear,  especially  by  applicants  of  our  sex."  ]\Ir.  Luke 
mentioned  some  little  incidental  circumstances  which  con- 
vinced him  of  the  young  stranger's  truthfulness;  and  so  they 
**  talkecf  till  after  midnight,"  and  awaited  with  no  little  im- 
patience "  the  issue  of  the  next  day." 

It  came  at  last,  that  eventful  morning  :  eleven  o'clock  had 
just  struck,  when  a  knock  at  the  door  announced  the  eagerly 
expected  stranger ;  and  five  minutes'  conversation  convinced  all 
that  she  was  not  an  impostor,  *'  no  concealed  Jesuit  seeking 
to  introduce  herself  into  a  Protestant  household."  We  beg 
our  readers  to  remark,  that  even  at  this  embryo  stage  of  the 
afiair,  if  she  is  an  impostor  at  all,  it  follows  that  she  must 
needs  be  a  Jesuit.  In  the  course  of  her  visit,  however,  the 
minister  and  the  minister's  wife  contrived  to  slip  out  one  after 
the  other,  to  compare  notes  concerning  her  on  the  stairs,  when 
Mrs.  Luke  expressed  herself  quite  satisfied,  and  ventured  to 
remind  her  husband  that  they  had  a  little  room  at  the  top  of 
the  house  which  they  might  cflfer  to  Marie,  should  she  be  in 
need  of  a  home.  They  had  much  conversation  with  her ; 
learned  from  her  more  in  detail  the  state  of  her  mind:  her 
dislike  to  the  doctrine  of  transubstantiation  ;  the  "  worship  of 
the  Virgin  and  Saints;"  the  "idle  mummery  of  the  public 
services,"  which  she  considered  "an  insult  to  her  understand- 
ing;" in  short,  to  the  whole  system.  She  was  not  yet  pre- 
pared to  join  the  Protestants,  not  having  ascertained  whether 
they  were  right ;  all  she  had  yet  learnt  was,  that  the  Catholics 
were  wrong  ;  and  she  wished  for  leisure  to  inquire,  and  a  retreat 
where  she  should  be  safe  from  pursuit.  She  had  providentially 
betn  sent  that  very  morning  to  the  convent  at  Hampstead, 
where  she  was  supposed  to  be  spending  the  day ;  but  there 
was  no  time  to  be  lost,  for  "she  knew  her  nun's  clothes  were 
making,"  and  she  judged  from  several  little  circumstances  that 
she  should  soon  be  sent  away :  she  "  might  any  day  be  taken 
out  as  for  an  ordinary  walk  or  ride,  and  be  shipped  on  board 
a  foreign  steamer;"  indeed,  such  would  probably  be  the  result 
if  any  suspicion  of  her  should  be  excited.  Mr.  and  ]\Irs. 
Luke  olTered  her  an  asylum  in  their  house,  and  recommended 
her  not  returning  to  the  convent  at  all,  wliich,  with  such  im- 
minent danger  of  being  kidnapped,  certainly  appeared  a  fool- 


The  Female  JesiiU  abroad.  '      2S 

barely  proceeding.  But  Marie  could  do  nothing  clandestine  : 
it  was  to  execute  a  commission  that  she  had  been  sent  out  that 
morning  from  the  convent  at  Somers  Town,  and  she  thought 
it  would  not  be  honourable  to  leave  it  undone ;  so  she  would 
return  this  once,  and  ponder  over  the  means  of  arranging  her 
final  departure.  Accordingly,  after  having  dined  and  spent  the 
day,  she  did  return,  accompanied  by  Miss  Elizabeth  Thompson, 
Mrs.  Luke's  sister,  as  far  as  the  convent  door. 

The  next  evening,  Saturday,  the  family  at  Crom^yell  Ter- 
race were  assembled  at  the  tea-table,  when  the  postman 
brought  in  an  "  unpretending-looking  note,"  which  "  was  not 
enclosed  in  an  envelope,  and  seemed  hurriedly  sealed  and  di- 
rected." Mr.  Luke  took  it;  and  as  he  read,  he  drew  the  lamp 
nearer,  and  his  evidently-increasing  interest  awakened  atten- 
tion. It  was  from  Marie;  and  its  purport  was  to  entreat  that 
Miss  Thompson  might  be  sent  to  her  that  very  evening  at  six: 
she  had  had,  she  said,  "  a  dreadful  time"  since  they  had  parted, 
and  was  "  compelled  to  make  use  of  an  ingenious  stratagem  to 
get  away;"  she  had  ''arranged  cuiother  plan,  but  this  seemed 
most  prudential;"  she  "  suspected  some  design,  so  the  sooner 
she  is  away  the  better."  This  is  great  news,  indeed ;  but  what 
is  to  be  done  ?  The  note  says  six;  it  is  now  half-past,  and 
will  be  half-past  seven  before  Elizabeth  can  reach  the  convent. 
Perhaps  six  may  be  the  only  hour  when  escape  is  possible ;  to 
go  at  any  other  may  expose  Marie  to  discovery  and  confine- 
ment. Yet,  on  the  other  hand,  she  may  be  on  the  very  point 
of  being  sent  out  of  the  country  ;  to-morrow  may  be  too  late  : 
Ehzabeth  must  go.  We  quite  agree  with  Elizabeth,  that ''  it 
is  no  very  agreeable  undertaking  for  a  young  woman  to  go  in 
cabs  and  omnibuses  at  night  alone;"  and  we  wonder  that  her 
brother-in-law  did  not  accompany  her,  till  we  are  reminded 
that  it  was  Saturday  night,  and  he  was  preparing  for  his  Sab- 
bath duties ;  besides  that  *'  he  of  all  others  would  be  most 
likely  to  excite  attention  and  opposition."  The  sisters  seem 
to  have  been  timid  on  the  occasion ;  and  the  upshot  was,  that 
Elizabeth  set  forth  alone. 

The  party  left  at  home,  however,  were  not  idle  ;  "  the  pastor 
went  to  his  study,  the  wife  to  her  room,  the  sister  to  hers,"  in 
order  to  "  give  vent  to  their  feelings  in  committing  their  mes- 
senger to  the  care  of  Heaven."  This  done,  they  betook  them- 
selves to  more  active  duties ;  and  set  to  work  to  prepare  the 
little  room  in  the  upper  story,  of  which  we  have  already  heard, 
for  its  intended  occupant.  This  little  room  is  described  as 
having  been  "  used  in  turns  as  a  temporary  sleeping-room, 
sitting-room,  oratory,  or  study,  free  to  all,  yet  not  decidedly 


^;'  1  The  Female  Jesuit  abroad, 

appropriated  to  any;"  in  short,  as  never  having  fairly  found  its 
vocation  till  this  happy  moment.  It  had,  moreover,  the  pret- 
tiest view  in  the  house,  "over  fields  and  pleasure-grounds  to 
a  canal,  winding  more  than  canals  are  wont  to  do ;"  while  a 
well-known  village  on  a  hill  crowned  the  distance,  with  its 
spire  rising  among  the  trees.  There  was  a  little  bedstead  not 
then  in  use,  and  the  sisters  eagerly  drew  it  forth  from  its  re- 
ceptacle ;  and  very  soon  little  Lilly,  the  child  of  five  years  old 
before  mentioned,  joining  in  the  bustle,  and  lugging  in  arti- 
cles much  bigger  than  herself,  this  "  chamber  in  the  wall"  was 
duly  furnished  for  the  prophetess  who  was  to  inhabit  it. 

But  to  return  to  Elizabeth.  "  When  fairly  gn  her  way  in 
the  dark  night,  she  began  to  feel  terribly  frightened ;"  not 
knowing  but  that  she  might  get  in,  instead  of  Marie  getting 
out.  However,  on  she  went,  **  for  a  mile  or  more  on  foot," 
then  stepped  into  an  omnibus,  and  in  twenty  minutes  more 
readied  a  cab-stand,  and  was  driven  to  the  convent-gate,  where, 
to  her  great  joy,  Marie  sprang  out  to  meet  her ;  and  they 
reached  their  home  in  safety.  It  may  be  imagined  with  what 
glee  the  family  rushed  to  the  door  to  welcome  them :  Marie's 
bonnet  and  shawl  were  soon  off,  and  herself  seated  in  an  easy- 
chair  by  a  blazing  fire,  partaking  of  the  refreshments  prepared 
for  her,  and  entertaining  the  circle  which  eagerly  gathered 
round  her  with  an  account  of  the  events  of  the  last  four-and- 
twenty  hours  truly  dramatic.  We  think  that  it  would  have 
saved  the  worthy  family  in  Cromwell  Terrace  much  subsequent 
trouble,  if  our  friend  Inspector  Bucket  of  the  Detective  had 
been  one  of  this  pleasant  little  tea  party ;  for  even  in  this  pre- 
liminary narrative  with  which  she  favoured  them,  there  ap- 
pear to  us  certain  peculiarities  which  he  would  probably 
liave  described,  in  his  technical  phraseology,  as  "  looking  like 
Queer-street." 

Great,  she  informed  them,  had  been  the  commotion  ex- 
cited in  the  convent,  as  well  it  might,  by  Marie's  late  return 
the  evening  before;  because,  in  the  interim,  two  girls  had 
arrived  frcnn  llampstcad,  by  whom  it  was  known  that  she  was 
not  spending  the  day  there,  as  was  believed;  and  she  not  a  lit- 
tle increased  the  disturbance  by  refusing  to  give  any  account 
of  herself,  except  that  she  had  met  with  a  young  lady,  with 
whom  she  was  going  to  spend  a  few  days,  and  also  by  declining 
to  perform  the  penance  enjoined  her.  The  matter  blew  over, 
however,  more  easily  than  we  should  have  thought  such  a  mat- 
ter would  blow  over  in  a  convent,  and  she  went  to  bed  in  her 
accustomed  dormitory  as  if  nothing  had  happened ;  but,  at  the 
ghostly  hour  of  two  in  the  morning,  she  heard  some  one  open 


The  Female  Jesuit  abroad,  ^5 

the  door,  and  softly  approaching  Mother  A.'s  bed,  carry  on 
with  her  a  whispered  conversation  in  Frencli,  to  which  Marie 
eagerly  listened,  and  gathered  from  it  that  she  and  some  others 
were  to  be  sent  oiFto  Amiens  in  the  middle  of  Sunday  night! 
On  Saturday  morning,  marvellous  to  relate  after  the  Friday 
adventure,  she  was  sent  out  again  "  on  business  for  Rev. 
Mother,"  attended  only  by  a  girl ;  who,  however,  ''from  her  vi- 
gilance, had  evidently  received  a  strict  charge  not  to  lose  sight 
of  her,"  but  whom  she  nevertheless  contrived  to  get  rid  of 
whenever  it  suited  her  convenience.  For  instance,  when  she 
had  forgotten  part  of  a  commission  she  had  to  execute  at  a 
bookseller's  shop,  she  simply  sent  this  watchful  guardian  back 
to  the  shop  to  rectify  the  mistake,  making  an  appointment  as 
to  where  they  were  to  meet  again ;  and  she  herself  meanwhile 
posted  off  to  Mr.  Luke's  chapel,  where  she  left  a  message  with 
the  pew-opener,  requesting  that  Miss  Thompson  would  come 
for  her  to  the  convent-gate  between  11  and  \2  the  next 
morning,  Sunday  ;  as  that  being  the  time  of  High  Mass,  she 
could  contrive  to  slip  out  unobserved.  She  altered  her  plan, 
however,  in  consequence  of  having  detected,  in  the  hand  of 
the  girl  who  accompanied  her,  a  letter  which  she  was  to  post, 
directed  to  the  Rev.  Mother  at  Isle  worth,  with  immediate 
upon  it,  and  which  she  conjectured  was  concerning  herself. 
Having  made  this  alarming  discovery,  our  heroine  quietly  sent 
her  companion  alone  to  put  the  said  letter  in  the  post,  while 
she  herself  turned  into  a  stationer's  shop.  She  had  twopence 
left,  which  had  been  given  her  for  charity  a  day  or  two  before 
(for,  in  the  order  to  which  she  belonged,  the  sisters  and  postu- 
lants were  allowed  a  penny  a  day  for  charity),  and  she  had 
also  one  postage-stamp ;  so  she  bought  a  sheet  of  paper,  bor- 
rowed a  pen  and  ink,  and  wrote  to  her  new  friends  the  note 
which  we  have  mentioned ;  after  which  she  returned  alone  to 
the  convent,  from  which  she  had  been  sent  out  so  strictly 
guarded;  and  informed  Mother  Ann  that  she  was  going  to 
leave  at  six  that  evening ;  that  a  young  lady  was  coming  to 
fetch  her ;  that  she  was  bound  by  no  vows ;  and,  if  opposed, 
should  call  in  the  aid  of  the  police.  At  six  o'clock  the  said 
Mother  Ann  and  the  portress  were  on  the  watch  for  the  arrival 
of  the  young  lady ;  but  as  no  one  appeared,  they  seemed  to 
consider  that  the  Ides  of  March  were  past,  and  relaxed  their 
vigilance;  and  a  diversion  occurring  in  the  shape  of  a  solemn 
procession  to  the  death-bed  of  Sister  Julia,  a  dying  novice, 
our  heroine  made  up  a  small  bundle,  put  on  two  gowns,  one 
over  the  other,  passed  Mother  J.,  mistress  of  the  poor-school, 
who  made  no  resistance,  and  walked  out  of  the  convent-door, 
to  which,  as  we  have  seen,  Elizabeth  had  just  driven  up. 


26  The  Female  Jesuit  abroad. 

When  Marie  was  fairly  settled,  she  began  her  autohio- 
graphy,  with  a  view  that  others  might  be  led  by  it  "  from  the 
way  of  error  into  the  path  of  peace."  All  benefit  of  a  more 
material  kind  for  herself  she  magnanimously  repudiated, 
making  a  present  of  the  manuscript  to  Mrs.  Luke,  and  beg- 
ging her  with  the  proceeds  to  "  buy  a  piano  for  dearest  Lilly ;" 
a  result  which,  as  the  volume  before  us  is  one  of  the  fourth 
thousand,  may,  we  venture  to  hope,  have  been  satisfac- 
torily accomplished.  The  said  biography  contains  several 
astonishing  f  icts :  as,  for  instance,  tliat  her  mother's  brother, 
the  Rev.  Herbert  Constable  Clifford,  was  a  Jesuit,  and  at  the 
same  time  vicar-general,  first  of  Amiens,  and  then  of  Nice ; 
and,  moreover,  that  he  resided  at  his  own  cliateau  near  Amiens. 
She  tells  us  of  High  Mass  being  celebrated  in  Paris  at  the  ca- 
thedral of  Notre  Dame  des  Victoires  :  and  such  of  our  readers 
as  happen  to  be  well  acquainted  with  Rome  will  learn  with 
surpiise  that,  through  the  influence  of  this  Jesuit  uncle,  her 
only  brother  was  educated  at  the  College  of  Santa  del  a  Pedro, 
which  is  the  Jesuit  noviceship  in  that  city.  Her  friends,  too, 
cannot  have  examined  her  pretensions  as  a  linguist;  for  we 
learn,  in  the  subsequent  account  by  Mr.  Seager,  that  she  was 
ail-but  entirely  ignorant  of  French ;  and  yet,  according  to  this 
narrative,  she  was  chiefly  educated  abroad, — at  Amiens,  at  Cha- 
teauroux,  fifty  miles  from  Paris,  at  Canouge,  near  Geneva,  at 
Nice,  at  Manotte;  being  shifted  from  convent,  to  convent,  with 
a  restlessness  and  rapidity  which  make  one  dizzy  to  read  of, 
generally  in  the  kidnapping  style  before  described :  and  it  was 
in  one  of  these  foreign  convents  that  she  became  a  postulant, 
under  the  peculiar  name  of  Sister  Marie  Philomel. 

All  this,  however,  passed  unchallenged ;  and  after  having 
been  re-baptised  by  her  friend  Mr.  Luke,  our  heroine  accepted 
in  a  short  time  a  situation  as  governess  "  in  the  kind  and 
Christian  family  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Spalding  of  Kentish  Town;'* 
but  soon  made  the  party  in  Cromwell  Terrace  very  anxious,  by 
the  accounts  she  wrote  them  of  her  ill-health,  her  frequent 
cough  and  spitting  of  blood,  a  malady  which  continues  through 
the  whole  volume  to  harass  her  friends  exceedingly.  While 
she  was  in  this  situation,  arrived  a  letter  directed  to  her  in  a 
foreign  hand,  written  in  French ;  which  purported  to  be  from 
the  Jesuit  uncle,  reproaching  her  for  her  apostasy,  but  telling 
her,  for  her  consolation,  that  he  had  the  sum  of  2000/.  in  his 
power  to  settle  upon  her,  which  he  would  do  at  the  end  of  a 
year,  if  she  would  only  promise  not  to  publish  the  autobio- 
graphy, which  he  understood  was  in  progress:  he  further 
requested  to  know  her  motives  for  abandoning  the  Church. 
To  this  she  replied  in  a  letter,  with  which  her  friends  *'  were 


The  Female  Jesuit  abroad.  21 

much  delighted  ;"  giving  at  great  length  a  history  of  the  work- 
ings of  her  mind  on  theological  matters ;  and  directing  it  to  the 
Very  Rev.  Herbert  Constable  CUfford,  G.V.A.,  Chateau  de 
St.  Jose,  Manotte,  near  Amiens. 

Soon  after  this,  however,  a  rather  awkward  event  occurred, 
• — the  unexpected  arrival  of  Marie,  escorted  by  Mrs.  Spalding, 
and,  to  speak  plainly,  dismissed  from  her  situation.  "  Oh ! 
Mrs.  Luke,"  she  said,  *'  I  have  done  very  wrong ;  I  have  told 
a  falsehood."  She  had  bought  some  dresses  as  presents  for 
the  servants,  and.  said  they  were  presents  from  Mrs.  Luke, 
bought  in  the  Edgeware-road ;  but  the  boy  who  brought  them 
was  recognised  as  belonging  to  a  shop  in  the  neighbourhood, 
and  on  inquiry  it  proved  she  had  bought  them  there.  Her 
friends  were,  of  course,  much  grieved;  but  her  "sobs  and 
tears  and  expressions  of  penitence"  could  not  but  excite  their 
pity.  She  shut  herself  up  in  the  room  in  the  upper  story, 
and  could  not  be  persuaded  to  appear;  till,  about  two  days 
after  this,  one  Saturday  evening,  her  voice  was  heard  in  loud 
screams,  and  she  was  seen  on  the  second  landing  rushing  down 
stairs  with  Lilly  in  her  arms;  and  at  the  same  moment  people 
from  the  street  burst  in,  crying  that  the  house  was  on  fire. 
How  it  originated,  no  one  could  guess;  but  Marie  had  been 
the  first  to  discover  it,  and  to  snatch  Lilly  from  her  bed,  and 
scream  to  nurse  to  save  the  baby ;  so  that  she  was  the  object 
of  universal  gratitude  as  tlie  preserver  of  the  whole  family, 
and  the  matter  of  the  print-dresses  was  forgotten. 

And  now  the  plot  began  to  thicken.  Another  letter  arrived 
from  the  uncle,  proposing  to  Marie  that  she  should  accept  a 
home  with  Captain  and  Mrs.  Kenyon ;  the  latter  of  v»'hom  he 
calls  his  "cousin  Constantia:"  they  are  Catholics,  of  course, 
but  would  allow  her  to  enjoy  her  own  opinions.  He  also  pro- 
mises her  a  visit  before  the  end  of  the  week.  This  promise 
produces  no  little  excitement :  his  being  a  Jesuit  priest  and 
of  the  house  of  Clifford,  added  to  Marie's  statements  of  his 
talents  and  high  position,  made  him  rather  a  formidable  visi- 
tor ;  especially  as  his  niece  insisted  on  "  the  house  looking  as 
well  as  possible,  that  he  might  not  suppose  she  lived  in  a  style 
unworthy  of  her  family  or  of  him  ;"  so,  "to  satisfy  her,  the 
drawing-room  furniture  was  uncovered,  the  vases  were  filled 
with  choice  flowers,  and  every  chair  and  curtain-fold  put  in  its 
proper  place."  However,  the  week  ended,  and  no  uncle  came  ; 
only  a  letter  full  of  tenderness  and  good  advice  ;  and  soon  after 
another  to  Mr.  Luke,  informing  him  that  Marie's  prospects 
were  very  different  from  what  she  herself  supposed  ;  that  she 
was,  in  fact,  presumptive  heiress  to  very  considerable  landed 
property,  a  portion  of  which  he  hoped  to  get  settled  upon  her 


t>8  The  Female  Jesuit  abroad. 

immediately;  and  requesting  him  to  fix  a  certain  sum  which 
should  be  duly  paid  so  long  as  she  sliould  continue  to  reside 
under  his  roof. 

Another  accident  occurred  about  this  time,  which  gave  the 
first  serious  shock  to  the  Lukes'  confidence  in  Marie's  integrity. 
When  Mrs.  Spalding  had  brought  her  home  as  we  mentioned, 
she  asked  her  in  parting  for  10/.,  which  she  had  collected  for 
some  charitable  purpose,  Marie  said  it  was  at  the  very  bottom 
of  her  box,  but  she  would  send  it.  Again  and  again  after- 
wards this  money  was  asked  for,  but  a  violent  attack  of  spitting 
blood  was  sure  to  occur  at  the  moment  of  every  such  demand, 
and  so  to  make  it  for  the  time  forgotten.  At  last,  however, 
it  could  be  put  off  no  longer ;  then  she  had  lost  the  key  of 
her  box ;  all  the  keys  in  \\\q  house  were  tried  in  vain ;  and 
the  box  was  finally  forced  open.  *'  You  will  find  the  money 
at  the  bottom  of  the  box,"  said  Marie  to  Mrs.  Luke,  for  she 
herself  was  stretched  out  on  her  bed  in  an  almost  fainting 
state  after  one  of  her  frightful  attacks ;  "  it  is  in  notes,  with 
the  tickets."  "  \\\  notes !"  said  Mrs.  Luke  ;  "  I  thought  you 
collected  it  in  gold  and  silver  ?"  *'  Yes,"  answered  Marie, 
*' but  I  thought  I  should  like  to  present  a  10/.  note  at  the 
meeting."  Mrs.  Luke  dived  to  the  bottom  of  the  box,  which 
presented  an  unexampled  scene  of  confusion, — clothes,  books, 
work,  Albert  lights,  tapes,  ribbons,  bonnets,  shoes,  papers, 
and  lucifer-matches, — and  at  last  succeeded  in  fishing  up  the 
tickets,  but  no  5/.  notes,  —  and  the  tickets  were  very  much 
burnt.  *' Burnt!"  cried  Marie,  astonished ;  "then  the  notes 
are  burnt  also.  How  could  it  happen  ?  Sarah,"  she  said, 
turning  to  the  nurse  who  was  in  the  room,  "  I  sent  you  on 
Sunday  to  the  box  for  my  Concordance  ;  you  must  have  rubbed 
the  lucifers  in  hunting  for  it."  This  was  rather  too  much ; 
nurse  loudly  protested ;  and  as  nothing  else  in  the  box  was 
damaged  except  a  few  papers,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Luke  themselves 
thought  it  a  very  strange  business,  more  especially  as  our 
heroine,  though  much  too  ill  to  be  closely  questioned,  volun- 
teered several  palpable  falsehoods,  and  when  requested  by 
Mrs.  Luke  to  say  no  more,  turned  on  her  **  a  look  of  black 
defiance,"  which,  she  says,  "  might  have  been  that  of  a  mur- 
deress." 

We  cannot  help  wondering  that  by  this  time  the  game  was 
not  fairly  up,  and  the  deceived  parties  roused  to  inquiry ;  but 
a  brisk  correspondence  between  Marie  and  the  Jesuit  uncle 
kept  matters  in  a  state  of  vibration  between  hope  and  fear. 
She  informs  him  of  the  sad  act  of  carelessness  by  which  she 
has  destroyed  ir.oney  not  her  own,  and  receives  in  return  a 
severe  blowing  up  both  for   this   and  for  many  similar  acts 


The  Female  Jesuit  abroad.  29 

of  inconceivable  carelessness  in  years  past,  of  which  she  is 
reminded;  but  he  assures  her  that  he  is  about  to  invest  in  the 
funds  for  her  benefit  a  sufficient  sum  to  yield  an  annual  reve- 
nue of^OOL,  so  that  she  will  have  ample  means  of  refunding 
the  sum  lost.  In  a  subsequent  letter  he  tells  her  that  he  is 
going  to  send  her,  by  Captain  and  Mrs.  Kenyon,  five  boxes 
containing  money  and  valuables  belonging  to  her  mamma,  and 
also  important  papers,  which  he  requests  her  not  to  use  for 
wool- winders.  All  this  furnished  one  distraction  from  the 
bank-note  business ;  and  another  was  found  in  her  increasing 
ill-health;  her  attacks  of  spitting  blood  became  so  frequent 
and  formidable  as  to  be  the  terror  of  the  house,  and  all 
thought  that  her  life  would  not  be  much  prolonged. 

Still  all  this  could  only  lull  suspicion  to  sleep  for  a  time, 
not  remove  it;  but  it  soon  appeared  from  the  correspondence 
that  she  had  a  satisfactory  account  to  give  of  the  bank-note 
affair,  if  only  she  could  so  far  overcome  her  reserve  as  to 
speak;  and  again  and  again  she  promised  to  explain  all,  but 
the  effort  of  attempting  it  made  her  so  ill  that  she  was  ob- 
liged to  desist.  She  declared,  however,  that  she  had  confessed 
all  to  her  uncle,  and  letters  upon  letters  arrived  from  him 
to  her,  imploring  her  to  open  her  mind  to  her  kind  friends ; 
and  also  to  those  kind  friends  themselves,  entering  into  par- 
ticulars as  to  her  character  and  disposition,  hinting  that  they 
have  judged  her  too  severely;  that  she  had  suffered  acutely 
from  their  altered  manner  towards  her,  and,  "he  must  say, 
had  been  treated  in  some  respects  very  unjustly ;"  he  also 
gives  them  advice  as  to  the  management  of  her;  winding  up 
by  saying  that  he  is  on  his  way  to  London,  and  will  be  with 
them  on  Thursday  evening  at  six,  to  see  his  niece,  and  to 
spend  the  evening  in  Cromwell  Terrace,  and  take  her  the  next 
day  into  Staffordshire,  to  visit  the  aunt  from  whom  she  ex- 
pected to  inherit.  Meanwhile,  in  other  respects,  a  gradual 
change  was  stealing  over  the  spirit  of  the  dream  ;  certain  un- 
amiable  traits  began  to  develop  in  the  character  of  Marie, 
more  especially  an  inexplicable  jealousy  of  little  Lilly,  and  a 
restlessness  and  craving  for  excitement  wliich  made  the  whole 
house  uncomfortable ;  but  still  they  continued  to  take  a  great 
interest  in  her  affairs,  and  looked  forward  with  intense  eager- 
ness to  this  long-talked-of  visit  of  the  uncle,  —  an  eagerness 
which  she  took  care  to  keep  alive  to  the  very  uttermost. 

Thursday  came,  hovvever,  and  all  the  party  were  on  the 
tip-toe  of  expectation ;  but  seven,  eight,  nine,  and  ten  o'clock 
struck,  and  no  uncle  ;  and  they  retired  to  their  repose  in 
entire  discomfiture.  The  next  morning  Marie  overslept  her- 
self;  and  before  she  came  downstairs,  Mr.  Luke  had  a  letter 


30  The  Female  Jesuit  abroad, 

purporting  to  be  from  Captain  Keiiyon,  stating  that  Mr.  Clif- 
ford had  been  taken  dangerously  ill  at  Marseilles,  and  was  not 
likely  to  recover. 

**  I  think  this  is  a  trick,"  said  Mrs.  Luke,  a  sudden  light 
darting  in  upon  her  mind ;  and  she  mentioned  her  reasons : 
in  the  first  place,  the  letter  was  badly  written  and  spelt,  and 
looked  like  a  forgery ;  and  moreover,  she  had  always,  since 
discovering  Marie's  falsehoods,  fancied  that  the  plot  would 
break  up  in  this  way, — that  the  uncle  would  be  taken  ill  and 
die,  when  just  on  the  point  of  making  his  appearance.  Mr. 
Luke,  however,  could  not  bear  to  see  the  whole  fabric  thus 
melt  away;  he  pointed  out  the  evidences  of  genuineness  in 
the  letters  hitherto  received  from  the  uncle, — their  priestly 
character,  the  natural  but  subdued  tenderness  they  exhibited 
towards  his  sister's  child,  and  especially  the  gentlemanly  and 
business-like  way  in  which  all  the  pecuniary  transactions  had 
been  treated  (so  far,  at  least,  as  words  went,  for  no  cash  had 
passed  between  them), — until  he  almost  made  his  more  quick- 
seeing  wife  ashamed  of  her  suspicions.  They  agreed,  however, 
to  conceal  from  Marie  her  uncle's  illness  till  they  had  further 
tidings.  Meanwhile,  matters  hastened  rapidly  to  their  de- 
nouement. In  the  course  of  the  day  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Luke  called 
Elizabeth  into  the  study  to  show  her  this  letter;  and  when 
she  had  read  the  first  sentence,  she  exclaimed,  "  How  strange ! 
I  read  this  very  sentence  in  Marie's  handwriting  the  other  day. 
I  tried  to  pull  her  desk  out  to  write  a  note,  and  something 
obstructed  the  movement.  I  looked  behind  to  find  the  cause, 
and  in  the  little  vacancy  between  the  top  and  bottom  of  the 
desk  there  was  a  paper.  It  was  the  copy  of  a  letter ;  I  pulled 
it  out,  and  read  this."  She  had  read  no  more  ;  but  of  course 
this  was  enough  to  seem  even  to  Mr.  Luke  "  suspicious." 
Other  confirmatory  circumstances  began  to  thicken  round 
them;  several  flagrant  falsehoods  were  detected;  Marie's  habit 
of  always  herself  meeting  the  postman  and  taking  the  letters 
was  noticed ;  and  an  inquiry  from  the  post-office  whether  Mr. 
Luke  had  received  a  letter  signed  Charles  Kenyon,  and  dated 
Marseilles,  for  that  the  said  letter  had  been  asked  for  at  the 
post-office  on  Saturday  morning,  changed  suspicion  into  cer- 
tainty as  regarded  the  sisters,  but  Mr.  Luke  was  still  hard  to 
persuade  ;  the  idea  of  the  whole  correspondence  being  a  fabri- 
cation of  Marie's  own  brain  was  too  much  for  him  to  face ;  so 
no  steps  could  yet  be  taken. 

This  was  no  pleasant  time  for  the  family  in  Cromwell 
Terrace ;  obliged  to  keep  up  appearances,  and  seem  still  to 
believe  Marie,  and  sympathise  in  her  uncle's  illness,  of  which  by 
this  time  she  heisclf  professed  to  have  received  tidings.    **  Con- 


The  Female  Jesuit  abroad.  31 

vinced  too  that  such  ability  in  intrigue  could  proceed  from 
none  but  a  Jesuit  source,"  they  felt  as  if  they  were  entangled 
in  the  meshes  of  some  dread  conspiracy,  from  whence  there 
was  no  escape.  They  had  other  fears,  too,  less  unreasonable ; 
her  dislike  of  the  children  recurred  to  them,  and  they  had  a 
vague  apprehension  of  what  revenge  might  prompt  her  to  do, 
if  driven  to  desperation.  Here  again  they  were  in  great  need 
of  Mr.  Bucket ;  for  poor  Mr.  Luke,  "  single-minded  and  un- 
suspicious," except  in  the  one  only  matter  of  a  Jesuit  con- 
spiracy, was  certainly  "  not  the  one  to  track  a  rogue."  But 
Mrs.  Luke  was  somewhat  more  able  and  prompt :  she  wrote 

to  a  certain  Lady ,  whom  Marie  claimed  as  her  cousin, 

and  begged  her  to  forward  an  enclosed  letter  to  the  Rev.  Her- 
bert Constable  Clifford ;  this  in  due  time  brought  an  answer 

(for,  by  good  luck.  Lady was  a  real  personage),  and  it  was 

quite  decisive  :  she  begged  to  know  which  Rev.  Mr.  Clifford  was 
intended,  for  she  knew  none  answering  to  the  name  of  Herbert 
Constable.  Tiiis  of  course  settled  the  matter:  the  uncle  was  a 
fabulous  being,  and  consequently,  in  all  probability,  the  whole 
story  a  lie  from  beginning  to  end  ;  and  we  only  wonder  that 
Marie  was  not  at  once  handed  over  to  the  care  of  the  police ;  but 
she  seems  to  have  sat  as  a  sort  of  nightmare  upon  the  parties 
she  had  so  long  deceived,  and  the  process  of  shaking  her  off 
was  incredibly  long  and  laborious.  At  last  Mrs.  Luke  wound 
herself  up  to  the  terrible  feat  of  visiting  the  convents  in  Lon- 
don and  its  neighbourhood,  of  which  Marie  had  spoken  ;  and 
appears  to  have  thought  that  nuns,  like  Jesuit  uncles,  were 
very  particular  as  to  the  elegancies  of  life,  if  we  may  judge 
by  Marie's  eij^clamation  as  she  set  forth  on  her  way,  *'  How 
nicely  you  are  dressed !"  All  the  particulars  of  this  visit  are 
detailed  in  a  breathless,  awe-struck  undertone,  so  to  speak, 
which  shows  what  a  formidable  enterprise  it  was.  Its  results, 
however,  were  pretty  conclusive :  at  Isleworth  Marie  was  not 
known;  but  at  Somers  Town  it  came  out  that  she  had  resided 
about  a  month,  having  been  introduced  there  by  a  priest  of 
Liverpool,  as  a  young  person  who  had  become  a  Catholic,  and 
was  much  persecuted  by  her  Protestant  friends ;  and  that  she 
had  left  at  the  end  of  that  time  to  return  to  her  friends, 
compelled  to  do  so  on  account  of  some  worldly  affairs  which 
required  her  presence. 

Sundry  other  discoveries,  meanwhile,  were  made  by  Mr. 
Luke  and  his  friends,  as  to  whom  she  had  employed  to  trans- 
late into  French  for  her  the  uncle's  letters,  and  on  what  pre- 
tences ;  and  also  the  means  she  had  used  to  produce  the  sem- 
blance of  haemorrhage  from  the  lungs,  which  had  kept  them 
so  long  in  anxiety:  this  she  had  managed  by  putting  leeches  in 

VOL.  I. NEW  SERIES.  D 


32  The  Female  Jesuit  abroad, 

lier  mouth  ;  a  box  of  these  luckless  crecitures  being  found 
(lead  in  her  room,  which,  whenever  she  was  out  of  the  way, 
her  friends  now  took  the  liberty  of  searching. 

As  all  parties  were  by  this  time  fully  convinced,  the  matter 
was  brought  to  a  crisis,  and  Marie,  in  presence  of  several  gentle- 
men of  Mr.  Luke's  acquaintance,  taxed  with  her  fraud;  which 
she  did  not  attempt  to  deny,  nor  did  she  appear  at  all  distressed 
at  the  exposure.  We  cannot  but  admire,  and  almost  wonder 
at  the  forbearance  of  Mr,  and  Mrs.  Luke.  After  this  shameful 
imposture,  they  agreed  to  pay  her  passage  to  Ghent,  where  she 
said  she  had  friends,  whom  she  named,  who  would  find  her  a 
situation;  and  Mr.  Luke  himself  put  her  on  board  the  steamer 
for  Ostend,  and  we  are  told  "  wept"  as  he  saw  her  depart. 
Some  little  time  after,  he  had  the  satisfaction  of  ascertaining 
that  she  had  been  consistent  to  the  end,  for  that  no  such 
individuals  as  those  she  named  had  ever  been  heard  of  in 
Ghent. 

Such  were  the  facts  of  the  case  :  and  now  w4iat  was  the 
conclusion  drawn  from  them  ?  That  this  worthless  impostor 
was  an  agent  of  the  Jesuits.  Such  was  evidently  the  delibe- 
rate belief  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Luke,  and  a  large  circle  of  their 
friends ;  for  though  it  is  only  stated  hypothetically  in  the 
chapter  specially  devoted  to  the  consideration  of  the  point, 
3'et  the  very  title  of  that  chapter,  "  Is  she  not  a  Jesuit  ?"  suf- 
ficiently indicates  the  leaning  of  the  author's  mind,  while  th.e 
title  of  the  whole  book.  The  Female  Jesuit,  or  the  Spy  in  the 
Family,  takes  the  entire  matter  for  granted.  Nay,  v.e  are 
told  that  it  was  "  the  general  persuasion  of  those  who  are 
acquainted  with  the  circumstances,  that  she  has  acted  under 
Jesuit  influence ;"  and  in  this  persuasion  we  are  further  told 
that  pious  clergymen  and  learned  reviewers  concurred.  Now 
let  us  just  consider  for  a  moment  what  this  opinion  involves; 
it  is  no  less  than  this:  that  a  society  of  men,  and  ftiostly,  in  this 
country,  of  Englishmen,  calling  ihemselvcs  Christians;  being, 
moreover,  many  of  them  gentlemen  by  birth,  and  all  more  or 
less  gentlemen  by  education;  living  too,  even  in  the  judgment 
of  their  enemies,  regular  and  mortified  lives,  and  trying  to  save 
their  souls  to  the  best  of  their  knowledge  and  belief; — that  men 
such  as  these  have  trained  up  a  young  woman  to  such  a  fright- 
ful proficiency  in  deceit,  that  lying  is  the  very  atmospliere  she 
breathes,  and  then  have  sent  her  forth  to  introduce  lierself  to 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Luke,  and  to  become  an  inmate  in  their  family, 
and  "all  for  the  sake,"  as  Mr.  Seager  justly  remarks,  "of 
preserving  at  Stonyhurst,  thence  to  be  transcribed  and  laid 
up  among  the  arcliives  of  the  Vatican,  a  correct  record  of  the 
daily  proceedings  of  their  quiet  household."     And  on  what 


The  Female  Jesuit  abroad,  33 

evidence  is  supported  this  charge,  so  antecedently  improbable? 
Absolutely  on  none :  there  is  not  a  circumstance,  as  far  as  we 
can  see,  which  furnishes  even  the  shadow  of  a  presumption  in 
its  favour.  Oa  the  contrary,  the  inquiry  made  at  Soraers 
Town  had  elicited  the  fact  that  she  had  presented  herself 
tliere  as  a  convert  from  Protestantism,  and  had  resided  there 
as  long  as  it  suited  her  convenience ;  so  that  the  good  nuns 
there  might  just  as  reasonably  have  concluded  that  she  was 
commissioned  and  paid  by  some  Exeter-Hall  committee  to 
act  the  part  of  spy  in  a  convent, — a  much  more  piquant  cha- 
racter than  that  of  spy  in  Cromwell  Terrace.  But  it  was 
clear  to  any  unbiassed  mind  that  she  swindled  where  and  how 
she  could,  for  her  own  interest  or  amusement,  using  religion 
as  a  mere  handle;  and  only  the  "monster  prejudice"  which, 
as  we  have  already  noticed,  was  in  the  mind  of  Cromwell  Ter- 
race from  the  very  first,  could  so  disturb  the  vision  of  people 
evidently  by  nature  simple-minded  and  unsuspicious,  as  to 
make  them  form  a  theory  so  revolting  to  common  sense  and 
common  charity.  They  do  not  pretend  to  offer  any  proof  in  its 
favour;  the  small  morsels  of  evidence,  such  as  they  are,  which 
they  have  collected,  only  go  towards  diminishing  the  antece- 
dent improbability.  Of  actual  evidence  that  the  fact  is  so,  there 
is  not  one  iota.  In  fact,  Mrs.  Luke  arrives  at  her  conclusion 
by  a  process  of  elimination :  it  could  not  be  a  self-contrived 
project — (why  not  ?) ;  its  motive  could  not  be  indolence — it 
could  not  be  this — it  could  not  be  that — "  therefore  it  has 
been  surmised  that  she  may  have  been  a  lay  sister  of  some 
religious  order,  employed  by  the  Jesuits  for  a  purpose  of  their 
own."  With  this  leading  idea,  as  we  have  seen,  the  history 
began,  and  with  it  thus  much  of  it  ended. 

Time,  however,  brought  a  triumphant  refutation  of  the 
calumny ;  the  Female  Jesuit  soon  re-appeared  on  the  scene ; 
but  this  time  her  practices  were  carried  on  in  a  foreign  land, 
and  her  victims  were  Catholics.  And  here  Mr.  Seager's  nar- 
rative takes  her  up.  She  was  introduced  to  him  at  Brussels 
by  the  Abbe  Edgeworth,  a  v;orthy  priest  residing  in  that  city, 
to  whom  she  brought  an  introduction  (forged,  of  course) 
from  Mr.  M'Neal,  the  priest  of  St.  John's  Wood,  and  to 
whom  she  represented  herself  as  anxious  to  be  received  into 
the  Church,  in  consequence  of  which  he  had  hospitably  taken 
her  into  his  house.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  S eager  followed  up  the  in- 
troduction, and  considerable  intimacy  ensued.  This  time  her 
parentage  and  dramatis  personce  had  changed.  Slie  was  born 
in  Wales  of  Protestant  parents;  her  mother,  after  her  father's 
death,  had  married  a  Mr.  Luxmore,  son  of  the  Bishop  of 
St.  Asaph,   and  both  she  and  her  husband  hud   since  died. 


Si  The  Female  Jesuit  abroad. 

Her  personal  history  had  a  tenderer  touch  of  the  romantic 
than  in  the  days  of  Cromwell  Terrace;  she  had  been  crossed 
in  love.  One  Eustace,  a  handsome  and  interesting  young  cu- 
rate, with  whom  she  had  been  in  the  habit  of  strolling  for 
hours  along  the  picturesque  windings  of  the  Dee,  had  won 
her  affections ;  but  on  her  mother's  death,  supposing  her  to 
be  left  unprovided  for,  his  ardour  had  sud(^enly  cooled,  and 
had  as  suddenly  revived  on  discovering  that  she  was  to  inherit 
a  good  fortune  from  an  old  aunt :  but  having  thus  found  out 
that  she  was  not  loved  for  herself,  she  had  broken  with  him 
altogether,  and  had  met  him  only  once  since  at  a  party  at  the 
Hon.  Mrs.  Kinnaird's,  when  he  had  dared  to  approach  her 
and  hold  out  his  hand ;  but  "  she,"  as  Mr.  Seager  tells  us, 
"like  Dido  in  the  world  below,  indignantly  turned  from  him." 
Since  then  she  had  been  living  under  the  roof  of  her  guardian, 
the  Rev.  Samuel  Duke,  an  evangelical  clergyman,  "  the  ordi- 
narv  vicegerent  of  the  vicar  of  St.  Martin's-in-the-fields, 
London,  who  resided  in  St.  John's  Wood  ;  and  whose  family 
consisted  of  his  wife  and  her  two  sisters,  daughters  of  the 
Hon.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Thompson,  of  Poundsford  Park,  near 
Taunton ;  a  lively  little  girl  of  five  years  old,  called  Lilly, 
and  a  baby  boy."  In  this  aristocratic  fancy-dress  re-appear 
our  old  friends  the  Lukes ;  and  so  do  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Spalding 
under  the  name  of  Slaten,  but  without  any  mention  of  the 
print-dresses  or  the  bank-notes;  and  so  does  the  story  of  her 
having  rescued  Lilly  from  the  flames.  Her  own  accomplish- 
ments, too,  have  rather  risen  than  otherwise :  she  does  not 
pretend  to  understand  much  of  French,  but  is  perfect  mistress 
of  Latin  and  Italian  ;  draws  so  well  that  she  had  once  re- 
ceived a  handsome  sum  for  a  set  of  botanical  drawings  she 
had  furnished  to  Tilt  and  Bogue;  and  plays  on  the  harp  like  a 
descendant  of  the  Druids.  All  this  came  out  on  her  own  tes- 
timony at  the  very  beginning  of  their  acquaintance,  and  before 
she  had  taken  the  measure  of  her  new  friends,  or  she  would 
not  have  laid  herself  so  open  to  inevitable  detection.  As  it 
was,  they  thought  her  self-laudation  in  strangely  bad  taste  for 
a  young  lady  used  to  the  best  society ;  but  Mr.  Seager  cha- 
ritably justified  her  to  himself  "  by  the  example  of  Virgil's 
hero,  who  declares  himself  to  be  the  pious  ^neas,  known  by 
fame  beyond  the  sky."  But  to  proceed  with  our  heroine's 
history.  While  resident  witii  the  Dukes,  she  had  become  con- 
vinced of  Catholic  truth  ;  and  she  gives  a  graphic  description  of 
the  scene  in  which  she  announced  this  fact  to  her  guardian, 
who  immediately  determined  to  remove  her  from  his  famil}-, 
and  it  was  accordingly  settled  that  she  should  go  as  boarder  to 
a  convent  in  Ghent;  so  "  she  packed  her  large  box,"  full  of 


The  Female  Jesuit  ahrcad.  35 

course  of  money  and  jewels  belonging  to  her  dear  mamma, 
and  velvet  mantles  and  valuables  of  all  sorts,  and  was  taken 
by  Mr.  Duke  to  Dover,  and  put  on  board  the  packet  for  Os- 
tend.  She  had  a  disastrous  passage,  and  was  driven  on  a 
sandbank,  and  the  *' large  box"  was  unfortunately  lost,  though 
she  had  since  heard  tidings  of  its  safe  arrival  at  Dover,  and  of 
its  being  deposited  with  a  friend  in  London.  She  had  failed 
in  obtaining  admission  to  the  convent  at  Ghent,  and  had  come 
on  to  the  Abbe  Edgeworth  at  Brussels. 

Here  she  was  duly  received  into  the  Church ;  but  rather 
scandalised  Mrs.  Seager,  who  acted  as  godmother,  by  the 
large  amount  of  thought  she  bestowed  on  "  a  new  and  rather 
expensive  white  dress,  and  mantilla  trimmed  with  lace,'* 
which  she  had  got  for  the  occasion.  The  poor  hospitable 
abbe  soon  found  to  his  cost  that  he  was  not  "  entertaining  an 
angel  unawares,"  at  least  not  of  the  right  sort ;  for  while  still 
resident  under  his  roof,  she  poisoned  the  minds  of  the  Sea- 
gers,  and  others,  with  all  manner  of  calumnies  against  him, 
and  so  raised  a  cloud  about  him,  which  it  is  much  to  be  feared 
hastened  his  death.  One  of  her  accusations,  that  he  had 
entrapped  her  into  lending  him  a  hundred  pounds,  had  an 
obvious  motive ;  and  others  were  designed  for  the  purpose 
which  they  effectually  answered,  of  preventing  any  intercourse 
between  Mr.  Seager's  household  and  the  abbe's  housekeeper, 
who  had  seen  our  heroine  at  Somers  Town,  and  whose  good 
memory  might  be  inconvenient.  How  they  came  to  believe 
such  things  on  the  bare  word  of  a  stranger,  Mr.  Seager  cannot 
himself  now  imagine,  and  again  has  recourse  to  the  pious 
JEneaSf  who  bitterly  exclaims,  *'  si  mens  non  l^sevafuisset,'*  he 
should  never  have  been  taken  in  by  Sinon  the  sly ;  so  here 
too  there  were  ample  grounds  for  doubt,  if  they  had  not  been 
under  a  sort  of  spell ;  but  Marie's  manner,  Mr.  Seager  says, 
was  S'..mehow  or  other  convincing. 

When  the  Seagers  left  Brussels  for  Bonn,  they  took  her 
with  them,  supplying  her  with  every  thing  slie  wanted,  and 
with  money,  which  she  was  always  on  the  point  of  repaying, 
but  never  did.  The  keeping  her  under  their  roof,  which  they 
did  for  a  period  of  thirteen  months,  seems  to  have  been  an  act 
of  simple  and  altogether  disinterested  charity,  for  they  evi- 
dently felt  none  of  the  charm  which  made  her  at  first  so  ac- 
ceptable at  Cromwell  Terrace  ;  and  her  total  absence  of  real 
religion,  her  restless  curiosity,  the  hollowness  which  they  soon 
found  out  of  her  flourishing  account  of  her  accomplishments,  and 
her  unlady-like  style  altogether,  annoyed  them  exceedingly. 

Mrs.  Seager,  indeed,  from  the  very  first  appears  to  have 
had  an  instinctive  perception  of  her  falsehood,  and  an  unmiti- 


36  The  Female  Jesuit  abroad. 

gated  dislike  to  her,  which  exhibits  itself  amusingly  enough, 
from  time  to  time,  in  certain  little  womanly  touches;  as  where 
she  describes  her  as  giving  one  of  the  children  an  "enormous 
kiss,"  and  deprecates  the  idea  of  walking  about  with  her  in  a 
polka  pelisse,  "  made  out  of  her  dear  papa's  beautiful  military 
cloak."  She  was  utterly  weary,  moreover,  of  the  perpetual 
excitement  which  Marie  kept  up  even  before  she  suspected 
it  of  being  all  a  mystification.  Mr.  Seager,  too,  seems  greatly 
to  have  disapproved  of  her :  she  slept  more  than  he  thought 
necessary ;  and  what  he  calls  her  "  philogastric  exertions" 
rather  disgusted  him,  in  conse  quence  of  which,  in  absence  of 
asceticism,  her  proportions  considerably  passed  the  line  of 
beauty.  Moreover,  she  did  not  betake  herself  to  her  books 
as  she  should  have  done;  his  just  representations  as  to  the 
necessity  of  acquiring  a  little  more  literature,  if  she  was  to 
gain  her  livelihood  by  teaching,  failed  to  produce  any  satis- 
factory result;  "she  never  could  attain  the  most  moderate  skill 
in  the  use  of  the  dictionary ;"  read  novels,  or  went  to  sleep 
when  she  should  have  been  writing  her  German  exercise ; 
copied  Assyrian  dates  out  of  a  book;  in  short,  did  not  by  any 
means  make  the  use  she  ought  of  her  literary  advantages 
under  Mr.  Seager's  roof;  while  even  little  Ignatius  and  Os- 
mund found  out  that  Miss  Garside  only  pretended  to  know 
Latin.  Besides,  there  were  sundry  instances  of  want  of  truth- 
fulness in  trifles  perpetuall}^  recurring,  which  produced  in 
their  minds  a  very  uncomfortable  feeling  of  distrust. 

One  great  talent,  however,  she  possessed,  and  it  was  quite 
enough  for  her  purpose ;  the  talent,  namely,  of  bringing  absent 
or  imaginary  people  into  breathing,  speaking  life,  and  of  inte- 
resting those  around  her  in  the  drama  she  thus  worked  out. 
This  she  exercised  quite  as  successfully  at  Bonn  as  she  had 
done  in  London  ;  indeed,  this  second  novel  was  of  more  stir- 
ring interest  even  than  the  former  one;  tlie  Lukes,  ennobled  into 
Dukes,  are,  as  we  have  seen,  the  chief  dramatis  personcs  :  but 
there  are  others  mixed  with  them,  some  altogether  imaginary, 
some  real  people  travestied.  By  means  of  a  brisk  and  most 
animated  correspondence,  she  kept  the  Seagers  for  thirteen 
months  on  the  qui  vive  about  herself  and  her  friends ;  Mr. 
Duke  falls  sick  and  dies  after  a  long  and  fluctuating  ilhiess ; 
Lilly  dies  too,  and  Mrs.  Duke  is  left  broken-hearted  ;  Miss 
Elizabeth  Thompson,  with  her  new  cousin,  Lady  Charlotte 
Noel,  become  Catholics,  are  turned  out  of  doors  by  their  re- 
spective parents,  and  determine  on  residing  at  Bonn ;  Mr. 
Seager  goes  to  the  train  to  meet  them,  but  instead  of  arriving, 
Elizabeth  dies,  a  martyr  to  the  persecution  of  her  family. 
It  is  impossible  to  follow  this  long  and  complicated  story, 


The  Female  Jesuit  abroad,  37 

especially  as  Mr.  Seager  gives  a  mere  recapitulation  of  heads 
of  what  seem  the  most  stirring  events  in  it.     We  will  hasten 
to  the  denoitementf  which  was  brought  about  in  a  curious  way. 
These  conversions  and  deaths  in  Marie's  drama,  which  fol- 
lowed one  another  so  rapidly,  were  mixed  up,  as  they  are  in 
real  life,  with  lighter  and  more  joyous  matters;  and  among 
others,  with  the  marriage,  most  entertainingly  detailed,   of  a 
particular  friend  of  hers,  a  certain  altogether  imaginary  Jane 
Randalls    with    a   Mr.    Charles  Cunliife,    equally  imaginar}*, 
son  of  a  Mr.  Cuidiffe,  vicar  of  Wrexham,  who,  it  appears,  is 
not  imaginary.     Marie's  packets  of  letters  to  this  young  mar- 
ried friend  were  directed  to  Mrs.  Charles  CunlifFe,  Lluynon  ; 
and   there  being  neither  such  a  person  nor  such  a  place,  she 
expected  her  letters  to  be  simply  returned  without  question. 
But  the  post-office  people  in  those  regions  were  given  to  theo- 
rising, and  they  bethought  them  that  there  was  a  Mrs.  CunlifFe, 
wife  of  the  vicar  of  Wrexham,  and  that  their  place  was  called 
Llynissas ;  and  the  letters  were  sent   there.      Several  times 
they  were  returned,  after  having  been  opened,  and  so  far  read 
as   to  ascertain  that  they  were  not  intended  there,    without 
exciting   any  further  curiosity  ;   but   the   publication  of  the 
Female  Jesuit  set  people  on  the  alert,  and  it  struck  Mrs.  Cun- 
liife, from   the  glimpse  she  had  had  of  these  letters,  that  she 
could  detect  a  similarity  in  the  handwriting  to  the  fac-simile 
published  with  Marie's  portrait,  and  also  in  the  style  to  that 
of  the  Jesuit  uncle's  letters.     Accordingly,  the  next  packet 
that  arrived  she  kept ;  and  as  she  and  her  family  happened  to 
be   going   to  London  to  the  Exhibition,   they  determined   to 
introduce  themselves  to  the  Lukes,  and  compare  notes.     The 
result  was,  that  !Mr.   Luke  and   Miss  Elizabeth  Thompson 
forthwith   proceeded   to  Bonn,    to    undeceive   Mr.    and  Mrs. 
Seager.     Mr.  Seager's  amazement  at  the  sudden  destruction 
of  the  whole  fabric  of  events  in  which  he  and  his  wife  had 
been  living  for  the  last  thirteen  months  may  be  imagined  ;  but 
the  first  word  spoken  brought  instant  conviction;  and  Mrs. 
Seager  declared,  that  if  she  had  been  told  this  on  the  very  day 
after  Marie  came  to  them,  she  could  have  believed  it.     A  long 
train  of  suspicion  had  been,  unconsciously  to  themselves,  gra- 
dually laying  up  in  their  minds  against  her,  and  the  first  tittle 
of  evidence  was  all  that  was  wanted  to  blow  the  whole  vision 
to  pieces.     Moreover,  of  late  she   had   been  evidently  pre- 
paring to  seek  "fresh  fields  and  pastures  new;"  for  she  had 
begun  for  some  time  past    to  talk  of  Unitarianism    in  such 
a  way  as  to  make  her  friends  fear  that  she  was  meditating 
apostasy. 


38  The  Female  Jesuit  abroad. 

She  made  no  defence,  was  tried  for  fraud,  found  guilty, 
and  sent  to  prison  in  Cologne  for  four  months  ;  and  even 
after  all  this,  so  fascinated  a  benevolent  lady  at  Bonn,  that  she 
proposed  taking  her  into  her  own  house  after  her  term  of  im- 
prisonment should  be  over.  A  more  judicious  plan  was,  how- 
ever, adopted  :  she  was  placed,  by  her  own  desire,  in  a  con- 
vent, where  she  appears,  from  the  accounts  received  of  herj 
to  be  conducting  herself  in  an  edifying  manner.  Some  oi 
these  accounts,  indeed,  rather  overshoot  the  mark,  and  repre- 
sent her  as  not  only  a  saint,  but  a  martyr,  magnanimously 
saying  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Seager,  that  she  quite  forgave  them, 
In  one  respect,  we  think  the  authorities  of  the  convent  in 
question  do  not  show  their  wisdom,  if  the  account  be  true, 
which  is  the  last  received  of  her ;  for  it  states  that  ^'  she  col- 
lects every  week  with  a  sister  at  the  houses  of  the  people  for 
the  support  of  the  institution."  If  this  employment  is  to  cure 
her  spirit  of  restless  intriguing,  it  must  be  on  the  homoeo- 
pathic principle. 

But  what  say  our  old  friends  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Luke,  now 
that  their  Female  Jesuit  has  come  cut  thus  publicly  as  having 
swindled  among  Catholics,  as  before  among  Protestants,  and 
still  on  pretence  of  religion  ?  Surely  they  ought  to  feel  and 
express  themselves  really  sorry  for  having  uttered  to  the  world 
so  unfounded  a  calumny  ;  restitution  in  such  a  case  is  not  only 
a  bounden  duty,  but  ought  to  be  a  pleasure;  for  to  a  well- 
regulated  mind  it  will  always  be  a  relief  to  find  in  any  man, 
or  body  of  men,  the  sin  less  than  we  had  thought.  But  Mrs. 
Luke's  manner  of  retracting,  if  she  can  be  said  to  retract, 
savours  too  much  of  beinf?  convinced  against  her  will.  In  a 
volume  published  by  her  before  Mr.  Scager's,  but  after  the 
communication  with  him  which  had  established  Marie's  iden- 
tity, and  called  the  Sequel  to  the  Female  Jesuit^  the  matter 
is  not  alluded  to  until  the  last  chapter,  which  is  headed,  "Is 
she  a  Jesuit  ?"  and  there  it  is,  we  must  say,  very  insufficiently 
discussed,  and  not  in  the  good  and  charitable  spirit  which  we 
are  sure  its  writer  would  have  shown  on  any  other  topic  but 
this  which  touches  the  "monster  prejudice."  She  says,  "they 
feel  bound  in  all  frankness  to  avow  their  altered  convictions ;" 
"they  would  be  the  last  to  wish  to  be  guilty  of  unfairness  even 
to  the  Jesuits ;"  and  then  goes  on  to  account  for  her  adoption 
of  the  offensive  title  of  her  first  book,,  by  saying  that  Marie 
had  called  herself  a  female  Jesuit, — Marie,  the  value  of  whose 
assertions  it  is  the  very  object  of  the  book  to  expose;  and 
she  says  further,  that  "as  an  embodiment  of  the  spirit  of  in- 
trigue, none  can  even  now  deny  the  appropriateness  of  that 


The  Female  JcsvAi  abroad.  39 

title ;"  and  that  if  Marie  was  net  a  female  Jesuit,  tliere  are 
female  Jesuits,  which  comes  to  the  same  thing ;  whereupon 
she  quotes  "  one  foimerly  hi^h  in  office  in  the  Roman  Catholic 
Church"  (who  must  have  made  the  most  of  his  means  of  infor- 
mation, as  he  informs  us  that;  "in  Italy,  excepting  the  Sisters 
of  Charity  and  of  the  Sacred  Heart,  orders  of  females  either 
do  not  exist  or  are  unknown,")  to  prove  that  sundry  convents 
are  under  Jesuit  rule  and  direction  ;  from  which  Aict  she  leaves 
us  to  draw  our  own  conclusions.  But  it  must  indeed  be  a  very 
long  stride  over  vacancy  which  will  land  us  on  such  a  resolt 
as  the  one  evidently  in  her  mind,  namely,  that  young  ladies 
are  taught  hy  the  Jesuits  to  act  as  Marie  did ;  that  is,  to  get 
into  private  families ;  to  live  at  the  cost  of  their  unsuspecting 
entertainers  ;  to  borrow  money  from  them  ;  to  tell  lies  to  an 
unlimited  extent ;  to  swindle  poor  tradesmen  out  of"  lavender 
merino  dresses  and  black  velvet  mantles."  If  this  were  really 
the  case,  we  quite  agree  with  our  authoress  in  recommending 
her  countrymen  not  to  deem  the  subject  unworthy  of  their  in- 
vestigation ;  for,  "  with  such  influential  and  well-organised 
female  agency,"  what  might  not  the  Jesuits  afl^ect  ?  Seriously, 
however,  we  appeal  to  our  readers,  whetlier  this  is  a  graceful 
apology  for  an  utterly  unfounded  slander  ?  And  yet  none  can 
doubt  that  she  who  promulgated  the  slander,  and  who  so  un- 
willingly retracts  it,  is  naturally  kind  and  simple-hearted  and 
unsuspicious;  alas,  for  the  "corrupt  following"  of  the  Pro- 
testant tradition  !  As  to  what  Marie  really  was,  we  think  the 
"  valued  and  beloved  friend  of  Mr.  Luke's,  also  in  the  minis- 
try," whose  opinion  is  given  at  the  close  of  the  sequel,  has  hit 
the  truth  exactly.  He  says:  "Every  body  in  our  house  has 
a  separate  theory.  Mine  is,  that  the  w^iole  springs  from  a 
gigantic  egotism,  which  could  not  live  without  being  the  object 
of  attention,  interest,  and  sympathy;  which  would  set  fire  to 
houses,  bleed  with  leeches,  write  folios  all  about  her  mental 
peculiarities  and  pecuniary  prospects,  in  order  to  become  the 
object  of  attention,  which  she  would  not  divide  with  an  inno- 
cent child." 

To  this  we  must  add,  the  pleasure  she  evidently  felt  in  the 
mere  act  of  scheming,  quite  independently  of  any  aim  beyond 
itself;  and  this  surely  is  not  inconceivable.  Imagine  a  person 
with  a  highly  inventive  genius,  with  an  all-absorbing  vanity, 
with  that  sense  of  the  dull  and  prosaic  character  of  actual  life 
which  all  must  feel,  and  the  most  highly  gifted  the  most 
keenly,  unless  they  have  learnt  that  spiritual  alchemy  which 
turns  the  dullest  metal  into  gold ;  and  suppose  such  a  person, 
further,  to  be  placed  in  an  obscure  position  in  life,  of  which 


40  The  Female  Jesuit  abroad. 

such  a  character  would  be  peculiarly  impatient;  then,  if  there 
have  been  no  habits  of  truth  and  integrity,  and  no  moral  prin- 
ciple dominant  in  the  mind,  surely  such  a  career  as  Marie's  is 
the  natural  result ;  we  need  not  have  recourse  to  the  Jesuit 
hypothesis  to  account  for  it.  We  must  all  have  seen  occa- 
sionally in  children,  and  perhaps  can  remember  in  our  own 
early  childhood,  a  tendency  to  romancing,  for  the  mere  sake 
of  exercising  the  imauinative  faculty,  which,  if  it  had  not  been 
promptly  checked,  miglit  have  grown  up  into  something  of 
this  kind.  How  children  live  sometimes  for  weeks  together 
in  an  inner  world  of  beings  created  by  their  own  fancy!  then, 
if  conscience  be  seared  by  early  mismanagement,  and  circum- 
stances be  adverse,  and  the  counterbalancing  forces  which 
should  be  in  the  mind  are  starved  and  killed,  how  easily  may 
the  ideal  be  translated  into  the  actual,  and  these  creatures  of 
the  fancy  be  made  to  speak  or  act  under  tlie  spell  of  the  great 
magician,  self-love,  to  advance  its  own  purposes  among  the 
real  men  and  women  whom  it  finds  it  can  thus  mould  to  its 
will!  Those  are  very  lucky  who  have  not  met  in  the  course 
of  their  lives  with  more  than  one  Marie,  on  a  larger  or  a 
smaller  scale ;  and  the  way  in  which  all  natural  repugnance 
is  in  some  instances  overcome  by  such  persons  is  almost  in- 
credible. We  have  been  told  of  their  submitting  to  the  most 
torturing  surgical  operations  as  remedies  for  diseases  alto- 
gether counterfeited ;  na}-,  have  we  not  even  heard,  on  un- 
doubted testimony,  of  nuns,  before  supposed  to  be  leading 
holy  lives,  who  have  dared  to  simulate  the  sacred  stigmata? 
The  engrossing  character  of  vanity,  however,  when  it  once  be- 
comes a  n.aster-passion,  is  no  matter  of  surprise  to  those  who 
experience  the  difficulty  of  shaking  off  its  tyranny,  even  when 
the  whole  being  is  up  in  arms  against  it;  and  this  painful  ex- 
perience makes  them  feel  that  the  only  true  philosophy,  the 
only  one  deep  enough  to  meet  the  real  fount  of  evil  within  us, 
is  that  which  the  world,  with  all  its  wisdom,  was  not  able  to 
devise,  and  is  ever  reluctant  to  accept,  that,  namely,  which 
lays  the  foundation  of  all  excellence  in  humility. 


41 


LIVING  NOVELISTS. 

DICKENS,  THACKERAY,  BULWER,  FULLERTON,  CURRER  BELL. 

L  Bleak  House.    By  Charles  Dickens.    Bradbury  &  Evans. 
2.  Esmond.     By  W.  M.  Thackeray.     Smith  and  Elder. 
o.  My  Novel,     By  Sir  E.  Bulwer  Lytton.     Blackwood. 

4.  Lady  Bird.     By  Lady  G.  Fullerton.     Moxon. 

5.  Villette.     By  Currer  Bell.     Smith  and  Elder. 

In  the  different  works  of  the  five  novelists  whose  names  we 
have  here  placed  together,  we  have  specimens  of  so  many 
distinct  varieties  of  prose  fiction.  Estimating  each  writer  by 
bis  works  as  a  whole,  we  may  take  Dickens  as  a  representa- 
tive of  the  farcical,  Thackeray  of  the  satirical,  Bulwer  of  the 
philosophico- melodramatic,  Lady  Georgiana  Fullerton  of  the 
domestic,  and  Currer  Bell  of  the  psychological  school.  The 
writers  themselves  might  perhaps  be  indisposed  to  acquiesce 
in  the  correctness  of  the  classification;  but  we  apprehend  that 
a  large  portion  of  their  readers  would,  on  the  whole,  thus  dis- 
tinguish them.  Each  of  them  we  think  undoubtedly  the  ablest 
living  representative  of  the  schools  to  which  we  have  assigned 
them,  though  here  and  there  a  single  novel  or  a  single  cha- 
racter may  be  named  from  the  works  of  others  wortliy  of  spe- 
cial note  as  characteristic  of  the  variety  to  which  it  belongs. 

With  all  their  merits,  they  leave  Walter  Scott  and  Miss 
Austen  as  yet  without  rivals ;  and  time  only  can  show  which 
of  them  will  take  a  permanent  place  among  the  classics  of 
English  fiction.  As  writers,  however,  of  the  second  rank,  set- 
ting aside  all  influence  of  present  fashion,  we  think  none  can 
deny  to  any  of  them  a  claim  to  high  and  rare  skill.  Their 
mere  relative  p)opiilarify  we  take  to  be  no  test  whatever  of 
their  respective  merits.  If  a  writer  speaks  to  the  few,  his 
readers  never  can  be  the  multitude.  His  genius  and  skill 
must  be  estimated  by  some  test  unrecognised  by  booksellers 
and  circulating  libraries.  Were  Lady  Georgiana  Fullerton, 
for  instance,  endowed  W'ith  the  power  to  write  a  perfect  novel 
of  her  own  school,  she  could  not  by  possibility  obtain  one 
tithe  of  the  readers  of  David  Copperjield ;  for  the  obvious  rea- 
son, that  those  workings  of  the  mind,  and  the  class  of  persons 
whom  she  paints,  are  caviare  to  the  rude,  rough,  coarse, 
suj.erficial  crowd,  which  loves,  because  it  can  understand,  the 
bold  broad  strokes  and  staring  colouring  of  a  humorist  like 
Dickens. 

To  those  who,  like  ourselves,  regard  a  work  of  fiction  not 
as  a  mere  book,  in  no  w^ay  a  more  fair  representative  of  its 


i2  Living  Novelists. 

•writer's  wliole  mind  than  a  treatise  on  algebra  or  a  discourse 
on  political  ecoiiom}',  the  study  of  the  books  of  five  such  ac- 
complished and  varied  novelists  is  a  curious,  agreeable,  and 
instructive  recreation.  We  look  upon  a  novel  as  more  or 
less  a  discourse  on  human  life,  the  genuine  product  of  a 
writer's  own  mind,  and  displaying  his  habits,  feelings,  views, 
and  principles.  That  this  is  so  is  shown  by  the  remarkable 
personal  interest  which  most  novel-readers  feel  in  seeing  or 
becoming  acquainted  with  the  men  and  Vvomen  whose  writ- 
ings have  powerfully  affected  or  delightfully  amused  them. 
"With  tens  of  thousands  of  Englishmen  and  Englishwomen, 
Dickens  is  a  hero.  His  very  name  gives  a  sanction  to  every 
thing  to  which  he  lends  it.  He  could  do  many  things  among 
his  fellow-creatures,  for  no  other  reason  than  that  he  wrote 
Pickwick  and  Copperfield. 

Charles  Dickens  is,  in  fact,  pre-eminently  a  man  of  the 
middle  of  the  nineteenth  century.  He  is  at  once  the  creation 
and  the  prophet  of  an  age  which  loves  benevolence  without 
religion,  the  domestic  virtues  more  than  the  heroic,  the  larci- 
cal  more  than  the  comic,  and  the  extravagant  more  than  the 
tragic.  The  product  of  a  restlessly  observant  but  shallow 
era,  his  great  intellectual  characteristic  is  a  most  unusual 
power  of  observing  the  external  peculiarities  of  men  and 
women,  as  distinguished  from  all  insight  into  that  hidden 
nature  whence  flow  the  springs  of  their  conduct.  And  mo- 
rally there  is  probably  not  another  living  writer,  of  equal 
decency  of  thought,  to  whom  the  supernatural  and  eternal 
world  simply  is  7iot.  He  has  no  claims  to  be  regarded  as  a 
writer  of  comedy;  his  characters  are  a  congeries  of  oddities 
of  phrase,  manner,  gesticulation,  dress,  countenance,  or  limb, 
tacked  cleverly  upon  a  common-place  substratum  of  excessive 
simplicity,  amiableness,  or  villany.  Take  away  the  gaiters, 
buttons,  gloves,  petticoats,  hair,  teeth,  cant  phrases,  and  ha- 
bitual postures  of  his  men,  women,  and  children,  and  what 
is  there  left  for  us  to  fall  back  upon  ?  Admirably,  indeed,  lie 
does  his  work.  Never  were  there  such  farces  off  the  stage* 
before.  No  English  writer  has  ever  portrayed  with  so  genial 
a  versatility  every  thing  that  is  visibly  odd  and  eccentric  in 
human  life,  without  resorting  to  what  is  profane,  coarse,  or 
indecent,  by  way  of  giving  a  spice  to  his  comicalities. 

Of  wit  Dickens  has  none.  The  intellectual  portion  of  his 
nature  is  not  sufficiently  refined,  keen,  or  polished  to  appre- 
ciate the  delicate  subtleties  of  thought  and  language  which 
are  included  in  that  singular  and  charming  thing,  a  witty  idea 
or  expression.  He  rarely  writes  a  sentence  in  his  own  proper 
character  that  imprints  itself  on  the  memory,  or  is  worth  trea- 


Living  Novelists.  43 

suring  in  the  storehouse  of  the  brain.  He  is  not  a  man  of 
thought. 

Of  course,  with  such  a  writer  every  thing  is  in  extremes. 
His  good  creatures  are  awfully  benevolent;  his  scoundrels  are 
as  black  as  the  devil  himself;  his  people  of  simplicity  are  po- 
sitive noodles.  In  fact,  they  are  not  men  and  women  at  all ; 
they  are  stage-characters  transferred  from  the  boards  to  the 
page.  Pecksniff,  Ralph  Nickleby,  Quilp,  Sampson  and  Sally 
Brass,  Uriah  Heep,  Tulkinghorn,  and  the  rest,  they  are  all 
so  many  varieties  of  the  standard  stage  "  villain."  Of  his 
variations  on  the  dramatic  '^  benevolent  old  gentleman,"  his 
last  novel  furnishes  one  of  his  most  characteristic  specimens. 
Old  Jarndyce  is  so  soft-hearted  and  soft-headed  a  model  of 
ultra-beneficence,  that  for  some  time  we  expected  him  to  turn 
out  a  deep  rogue  in  the  end.  This  whole  story,  in  fact,  is 
a  failure,  and,  in  our  judgment,  inferior  to  any  thing  Dickens 
has  written  before.  Plot  it  has  none  ;  and  it  is  impossible  to 
feel  the  slightest  interest  in  the  characters  with  whom  we  are 
meant  to  sympathise.  Jarndyce,  Richard,  and  Ada,  are  poor 
to  the  last  degree ;  and  as  to  Esther  Summerson,  the  angelic, 
self-forgetting  young  lady,  who  notes  in  her  journal  every 
thing  that  a  self-forgetting  mind  would  not  note,  we  have 
found  her  a  prodigious  bore,  whom  we  wish  the  author  had 
consigned  to  the  store-room  the  moment  she  was  fairly  in 
possession  of  her  housekeeping  keys.  The  manner  in  which 
this  lady  is  made  to  chronicle  her  own  merits,  is  a  proof  how 
unable  Dickens  is  to  enter  into  the  real  dejHhs  of  a  human 
mind,  and  draw  a  genuine  character  self-consistent  in  all  its 
parts. 

In  his  intentionally  farcical  characters,  Dickens  reigns 
supreme.  From  Pickwick  downwards,  they  are  a  splendid 
series;  and  a  host  they  are  in  numbers.  From  the  rapidly 
but  charmingly  touched  Sketches  by  Boz  down  to  Mr.  Bucket 
the  detective  in  Bleak  House^  what  an  innumerable  list  of  oddi- 
ties they  are  to  have  proceeded  from  the  brain  of  one  man ! 
We  suppose,  of  the  whole  list,  that  Mr.  Pickwick  and  Sam 
Weller  will  be  unanimously  accounted  the  most  thoroughly 
amusing  and  excellent;  and  of  the  rest,  diflerent  readers  will 
choose  different  objects  for  their  preference.  We  confess, 
ourselves,  to  a  peculiar  'penchant  for  Dick  Swiveller  and  the 
Marchioness;  and  we  question  whether  in  the  whole  range 
of  Dickens's  happiest  scenes  any  thing  is  to  be  found  superior 
to  the  occasion  on  which  the  unfortunate  Richard  wakes  from 
his  fever,  and  bids  the  cribbage-playing  Marchioness  mark 
'*  two  for  his  heels."" 

Dickens's  pathos  is  little  to  our  taste,  speaking  generally, 


41«  Living  Novelists, 

for  we  admit  striking  exceptions.  As  a  rule,  however,  he 
overdoes  it.  He  describes  and  describes^  and  lays  on  his  co- 
lours with  violent  elaboration,  till  the  reader  is  fatigued  rather 
than  affected.  And  so  it  is  in  his  general  style :  he  makes 
a  catalogue  instead  of  placing  a  few  salient  points  before  the 
mind's  eye.  With  true  pre-Rapbaelite  toil,  he  goes  through 
every  thing  that  can  be  seen  or  discovered,  till  the  impression 
on  the  reader  is  weakened  by  the  multiplicity  of  detail,  and 
weariness  takes  the  place  of  vivid  perception.  This  is  melo- 
drama instead  of  tragedy,  and  penny-a-lining  (clever  though 
it  be)  instead  of  powerful  writing. 

Another  peculiarity  in  Dickens  is  his  taste  for  nastiness. 
We  do  not  mean  that  he  tells  dirty  stories,  or  makes  dirty 
jokes.  Far  from  it.  He  is  too  much  a  man  of  the  day  to 
give  in  to  any  thing  of  the  kind.  Yet  he  has  a  marvellous 
liking  for  whatever  is  physically  offensive.  He  gloats  over 
mould,  damp,  rottenness,  and  smells.  There  is  not  a  book 
of  his  in  which  dampness  and  mouldiness  ai-e  not  repeatedly 
brought  in  as  characterising  some  spot  or  building.  We  be- 
lieve he  cannot  conceive  of  any  thing  old  without  being  damp. 
In  the  same  way,  he  loves  to  dwell  on  offensive  peculiarities 
in  his  characters.  Thus,  in  BleaJc  House  we  have  a  disgust- 
ing lawyer  with  black  gloves  always  picking  the  pimples  on 
his  face.  The  same  story  supplies  one  of  the  most  unpar- 
donably  nauseous  descriptions  which  ever  disfigured  a  work 
of  fiction.  The  details  of  the  spontaneous  combustion  of  the 
miser  Krook  are  positively  loathsome.  Any  thing  more  sick- 
ening and  revolting  we  never  read. 

As  we  have  said,  Dickens  is  a  man  to  whom  the  super- 
natural world  is  not.  It  is  melancholy  to  see  one  so  amiable, 
so  benevolent  in  his  aspirations,  so  clear  in  his  estimate  of 
domestic  virtues,  at  the  same  time  stoiie-blifid  to  the  existence 
of  any  thing  which  eye  cannot  see,  and  to  an  hereafter  whose 
woe  or  joy  is  dependent  on  man's  conduct  here.  Now  and 
then,  it  is  true,  he  treats  us  to  a  little  theatrical  rubbish 
about  angels  and  so  forth,  but  they  are  mere  melodramatic 
"  machinery."  Of  Christianity  as  a  revelation,  of  sin  as  an 
offence  against  God,  of  the  law  of  God  as  a  rule  of  life,  he 
seems  literally  unconscious.  Amiable  jollity  is  his  beau-ideal 
of  human  perfection.  We  are  the  last  persons  to  wish  to  turn 
a  novel  into  a  sermon  ;  but  there  are  ways  of  indicating  right 
and  wrong,  and  of  representing  the  human  mind  as  responsible 
in  all  things  to  its  Creator,  without  preacliing  or  canting.  We 
cannot  conceive  any  thing  more  utterly  Pagan  and  shocking 
than  the  whole  treatment  of  the  character  of  the  unfortunate 
Lady  Dedlock  in  Bleak  House,     The  utte?-  absence  of  any 


Living  Novelists,  45 

trace  of  tliose  feelings  which  would  have  been  shown  by  every 
woman  possessed  of  the  slightest  remnants  of  a  conscience,  is 
most  painful;  and  also,  little  as  we  are  convinced  that  Mr.  Dick- 
ens would  wish  such  a  result,  most  undoubtedly  pernicious. 

Thus,  ignorant  of  the  very  elements  of  a  religious  faith, 
it  is  natural  that  Dickens  should  fail  in  drawing  religious 
hypocrites.  The  Chadbands  o^  Bleak  House,  and  others  of 
his  stories,  are  perfect  failures.  The  class  of  men  whom  he 
wishes  to  show  up,  always  get  hold  of  something  like  Chris- 
tian phrases,  and  are,  in  fact,  far  more  offensively  disgusting 
than  Dickens  makes  them.  But  the  slang  of  Chadband  and 
his  compeers  is  as  unlike  religious  cant  as  it  is  tedious  and 
unmeaning. 

Such  we  hold  to  be  the  merits  and  deficiencies  of  the 
author  of  the  Pickwick  Papers,  An  unrivalled  humorist, 
and  eminently  respectable  in  his  morals,  his  knowledge  of 
human  nature  is  as  superficial  as  it  is  extensive. 

A  very  different  writer  is  the  author  of  Vanity  Fair, 
Pendennis,  and  Esmond,  Singularly  unlike  are  the  modes  in 
which  Charles  Dickens  and  William  Makepeace  Thackeray 
view  human  life.  Dickens  sees  all  from  without ;  Thacke- 
ray's power  lies  in  the  dissection  of  human  motives  and  the 
developing  of  human  infirmities.  Dickens  transfers  man  from 
the  stage ;  Thackeray  watches  him  in  society  and  follows  him 
to  his  most  secret  chamber,  and  never  rests  till  he  has  torn  off 
his  trappings,  and  shown  him  in  all  his  graceless  deformity, 
Thackeray  is  neither  more  nor  less  than  what  is  ordinarily 
meant  by  the  term  "  a  satirist."  He  has  seen  enough  of 
human  nature  to  have  acquired  an  intense  aversion  for  a  cer- 
tain class  of  its  frailties  and  vices,  without  that  knowledge  of 
what  man  may  become,  and  does  become,  under  the  influence 
of  ennobling  principles,  which  enables  keen-sighted  and  sad- 
hearted  men,  such  as  he  appears  in  his  books,  to  give  a  true 
picture  of  human  life,  as  a  whole.  As  a  whole,  his  books  are 
eminently  unfair;  but  as  paintings  of  one  or  two  phases  of 
human  society,  they  are  true,  and  powerfully  wrought  to  the 
last  degree.  To  many  readers  he  appears,  we  believe,  to  be 
a  bitter,  hard,  severe-minded  man.  To  us  this  seems  a  par- 
tial view  of  his  character.  We  see  nothing  in  his  writings  to 
justify  the  opinion  that  he  does  not  possess  the  full  amount  of 
natural  tenderness,  benevolence,  and  cordiality  of  spirit  which 
falls  to  the  lot  of  ipost  persons.  But  his  eye  is  so  intently 
fixed  on  certain  social  and  personal  offences  in  modern  life, 
that  he  cannot  complain  if  the  world  thinks  him  a  mere  sa- 
tirist, all  bitterness^  That  he  can  hate  vehemently,  no  one 
can  doubt  who  read  his  "  Appeal  to  an  Eminent  Appealer"  in 


46  Living  Novelists. 

the  pages  of  Punch, — an  attack  on  Cardinal  Wiseman,  ab- 
solutely overflowing  with  savage  fury,  and  one  of  the  most 
disgraceful  pieces  of  writing  which  ever  flowed  from  the  pen 
of  a  person  calling  himself  a  gentleman. 

His  novels  are  far  less  hearty  in  their  hate  ;  but  they  are 
bitter  enough.  Their  chief  faults  are  their  narrowness  of 
range,  and  their  painful  delineations  of  the  female  mind.  The 
best-drawn  of  Thackeray's  characters,  Major  Pendennis,  is 
but  a  type  of  nearly  all  his  men,  save  an  occasional  drunken 
Irishman  like  Costigan,  or  an  unreal  fabrication  like  Esmond; 
and  his  women  vary  between  the  clever  rogue  Rebecca  and 
the  silly  widow  in  Vanity  Fair.  He  seems  unable  to  imagine 
a  woman  who  is  not  more  or  less  either  a  knave  or  a  fool :  of 
a  union  of  intelligence  and  genius  with  true  feminine  delicacy 
and  warm-hearted  affection,  his  novels  supply  no  example. 
And  this  is  to  be  the  more  regretted,  because  his  women  who 
have  a  character  are  drawn  with  inimitable  skill.  Rebecca  in 
Vanity  Fair,  and  Blanche,  the  authoress  of  Mes  Larmes,  in 
PendenniSy  are  rare  instances  of  portrait-painting  in  the 
darkest  colours,  without  passing  into  the  exaggerations  of 
impossibility. 

Thackeray's  last  completed  novel,  Esmond,  the  judgment 
of  most  readers,  we  apprehend,  pronounces  a  failure.  A  man 
cannot  run  in  chains,  though  he  ma^^  show  how  well  he  can 
do  it  considering  the  impediments.  And  so  it  is  when  a  writer 
adopts  the  style  of  an  age  gone  by,  and  tries  literally  to  im- 
personate the  autobiographical  hero  of  his  story.  The  Addi- 
sonian style  of  Esmond  is,  after  all,  only  a  very  clever  school- 
boy's exercise  in  the  manner  of  the  Spectator.  The  unques- 
tionable skill  with  which  some  of  the  characters  are  drawn, 
is  lost  in  the  tedious  uniformity  of  prosiness,  to  which  Mr. 
Thackeray  has  bound  himself  in  his  effort  to  escape  from  the 
smartness  of  nineteenth-century  writing.  Indeed,  the  style  of 
Esmorid  is  rather  an  avoidance  of  the  peculiarities  of  to-day, 
than  an  adoption  of  the  life  and  thought  of  the  days  of  Queen 
Anne.     As  a  story,  the  book  is  unfortunate,  and  unpleasant. 

Very  different  again  are  the  novels  of  Sir  Edward  Bulwer 
Lytton.  Biilwer — (for  so,  notwithstanding  his  cognominal 
variations,  the  literary  historian  will  call  him) — is  a  species 
of  pedantic  Byron.  His  books  display  all  Lord  Byron's  im- 
morality, not  half  his  genius,  and  ten  times  his  affectation.  Half 
of  the  genius  of  the  author  of  Childe  Harold  is,  however, 
sufficient  to  make  a  very  respectable  reputation;  and  though 
we  are  not  disposed  to  accord  to  the  author  oi  Pelham  the 
full  amount  of  that  moiety,  his  abilities  are  undoubted  and  his 


Living  Novelists,  47 

skill  varied.  His  morals  and  politics  appear  to  have  now  un- 
dergone a  simultaneous  change,  and  he  has  picked  up  pro- 
priety in  company  with  protectionism.  Ere  the  sounds  of 
critical  indignation  against  the  wickedness  of  Lucretia  have 
well  died  away,  the  respectabilities  of  The  Caxtons  come 
forward  to  soothe  an  oiFended  public,  and  are  followed  by  a 
long,  tiresome  affair  in  four  volumes,  termed  My  Novel,  by 
Pisistratus  Caxton,  in  which  the  author  appears  in  full  cos- 
tume as  a  reformed  radical  and  repentant  rake.  This  last 
story  contains  some  good  scenes  and  good  sketches ;  but  as  a 
view  of  English  country  life,  of  manufacturing  life,  of  aristo- 
cratic life,  and  of  the  literary  life,  it  is  as  wide  of  the  mark  as 
Pelham  is  unlike  a  treatise  on  morals.  The  Caxtons^  on  the 
contrary,  is  a  very  clever  book,  and  only  tedious  towards  the 
conclusion.  The  whole  is  disfigured,  it  is  true,  with  an  affec- 
tation of  the  manner  of  Sterne ;  but  not  sufficiently  so  to 
interfere  with  the  truthful  effect  of  the  book  altogether.  It  is 
blotted  also  with  the  writer's  never-ceasing  display  of  out-of- 
the-way  and  voluminous  "  reading,"  though  not  to  any  thing 
like  the  same  extent  with  My  Novel,  wherein  we  know  not 
which  is  most  disagreeable,  the  pedantry  or  the  sham  philoso- 
phy and  religion. 

The  power  of  Bulwer  unfortunately  comes  out  most 
strongly  in  his  earlier  and  more  objectionable  fictions.  Pel- 
ham  is  as  unprincipled  as  it  is  brilliant ;  and  so  with  most  of 
its  successors.  The  melo-dramatic  development  of  character 
which  generally  marks  them,  is  so  utterly  pernicious  in  the 
principles  of  action  which  are  assumed  to  be  natural  and  noble 
in  man,  that  we  are  persuaded  that  these  novels  have  done  as 
much  harm,  especially  to  young  readers,  as  any  publications 
which  for  a  long  time  have  issued  from  the  more  decent  por- 
tion of  the  press.  Their  vigour,  their  vivacity,  their  occasional 
truth  of  painting,  and  their  passionate  though  morbid  details 
of  emotion,  only  make  their  influence  upon  the  eJccitable  and 
craving  intelligence  of  the  youthful  mind  more  rapidly  and 
deeply  injurious.  For  the  future,  unless  he  can  write  more 
books  as  good  as  The  Caxtons,  we  trust  that  the  author  of 
Pelham  will  confine  himself  to  setting  his  readers  to  sleep  by 
dull  philosophico  -  theologico  -  scholastico  -  poetical  disquisitions, 
and  be  content  with  the  reputation  he  has  earned  as  the  best 
painter  of  roues  of  the  present  day. 

From  Sir  Edward  Bulwer  Lytton  to  Lady  Georgiana  Ful- 
lerton,  the  next  on  our  list,  is  a  stride  indeed.  This  lady's 
stories  are  the  only  ndvels  which  have  attained  and  preserved 
a  general  popularity,  notwithstanding  the  very  palpable  ma- 

VOL.    I. NEW  SERIES.  E 


48  JLiving  Novelists, 

nifestations  which  they  aiford  of  the  reh'gion  of  tlie  writer. 
The  Puseyism  oi  Ellen  Middleton  could  not  keep  it  out  of 
the  circulating  libraries ;  and  we  suspect  that  few  recent 
novels  have  been  so  much  read  by  the  more  intelligent  and 
critical  class  of  novel-readers.  Lady  Georgiana's  conversion 
to  Catholicism  did  not  destroy  her  reputation,  unusual  as  such 
a  thing  is  in  this  violently  Protestant  country ;  and  her  last 
book,  Lady  Bird,  has  done  nothing  to  lessen  the  fame  already 
won.  Her  success  as  a  Catholic  writer  of  novels,  without 
concealment  of  her  faith,  is  to  be  attributed,  we  think,  to  two 
of  her  characteristic  merits.  She  writes,  in  the  first  place,  as 
a  Catholic,  naturally  and  unaffectedly,  and  not  as  a  concealed 
controversialist ;  and  in  the  second  place,  she  has  the  rare  art 
of  making  her  men  gentlemen,  and  her  women  ladies,  at  the 
same  time  that  she  preserves  and  develops  their  distinctive 
characters  with  very  considerable  force  and  discrimination.  At 
all  times,  and  especially  as  English  society  is  now  constituted, 
the  former  of  these  characteristics  is  of  the  highest  import- 
ance. To  make  a  novel  directly  controversial,  or  to  make  it 
a  vehicle  for  exhibiting  a  glaring  contrast  between  Catholics 
and  Protestants,  is  a  capital  blunder,  speaking  as  a  general 
rule.  Nobody  reads  fictions  to  learn  what  controversialists 
have  to  say;  and  when  readers  stumble  on  such  discussions, 
nobody  gives  the  writer  credit  for  a  fair  statement  of  the  case 
in  hand.  Yet,  by  a  natural  and  easy  recognition  of  the  vital 
power  of  the  Catholic  religion  in  shaping  and  guiding  the 
minds  of  its  children  in  certain  ways,  and  by  an  unpretending 
but  skilful  introduction  of  Catholic  feelings  and  habits  in  the 
trying  circumstances  of  life,  not  a  little  good  may  be  done  in 
the  way  of  softening  prejudices  and  awakening  kindlier  feel- 
ings in  the  better  classes  of  Protestant  readers.  This  merit 
is  undoubtedly  possessed  by  Lady  Georgiana  FuUerton.  No 
one  can  be  aflfronted  at  her  introduction  of  Catholic  customs, 
feelings,  and  doctrines  as  she  introduces  them.  We  only 
regret  that  she  unintentionally  occasionally  conveys  (as  we 
fear  must  be  the  case)  a  misconception  as  to  what  Catholic 
doctrine  or  practice  really  is.  One  or  two  of  the  scenes  be- 
tween Gertrude  and  D'Arberg,  in  Lady  Bird,  are  particular 
instances  of  this  fault.  The  want  of  feeling  displayed  by  the 
old  priest  to  his  niece,  in  the  earlier  parts  of  the  same  story, 
is  also  very  far  from  being  in  keeping  with  the  rest  of  his 
character  and  with  the  facts  of  actual  life  as  seen  in  the  con- 
duct of  the  Catholic  priesthood.  The  last  thing  that  we 
should  say  of  them  is,  that  they  are  wanting  in  tenderness 
and  consideration  for  young  persons  situated  as  poor  Lady 
Bird. 


Living  Novelists.  49 

The  other  source  of  Lady  Georgiana  Fullerton's  undimi- 
Bished  popularity  lies  in  the  unusual  refinement  and  delicacy 
of  feeling  which  pervades  every  thing  that  comes  from  her 
pen.  We  know  no  living  novelist  who  has  any  pretensions 
to  rival  her  in  this  respect.  It  is  a  trite  remark,  that  it  is 
most  difficult  to  make  a  man  or  woman  at  once  a  gentleman 
or  a  lady  and  a  distinctly  marked  and  strongly  interesting  cha- 
racter. The  whole  range  of  English  fiction  affords  few  such 
proofs  of*"  skill.  And  whatever  other  charms  the  present 
schools  of  novel-writing  present,  in  this  respect  they  are  all 
wanting.  Take,  for  instance,  such  a  delightful  book  as  Mrs. 
Gaskeli's  Crariford,  reprinted  from  Household  Words.^  This 
story  is  a  perfect  little  picture  of  the  life  its  authoress  desires 
to  portray ;  but,  harmless  and  innocent  as  it  is,  and  interest- 
ing, and  even  touching,  as  are  one  or  two  of  its  personages, 
there  is  not  a  trace  of  that  perfect  refinement  of  feeling  in 
any  one  of  them  which  is  in  its  essential  nature  opposed  to 
what  we  mean  by  vulgarity.  This  true  delicacy,  happily,  in 
real  life  is  not  confined  to  any  one  rank  in  society  alone, 
though  it  is  more  rare  in  some  classes  than  in  others;  but 
wherever  it  is  found,  whether  in  reality  or  in  fiction,  it  pos- 
sesses an  attraction  to  every  mind  which  can  at  all  sympathise 
with  its  mingled  sensitiveness  and  self-possession,  for  the 
absence  of  which  no  other  beauty  or  power  can  altogether 
atone.  This  it  is  which  we  desiderate  in  Miss  Austen's  other- 
wise unrivalled  novels  of  domestic  life.  As  paintings  of  men 
and  women  they  are  daguerreotypes  ;  but  we  cannot  help 
wishing  that  they  had  included  in  their  scope  some  few  per- 
sonages of  a  more  refined  and  elevated  tone  of  mind  and 
feeling. 

This  rare  excellence  is,  however,  to  be  found  in  Lady 
Georgiana's  fictions.  Every  page  is  a  revelation  of  the  thoughts 
of  an  observant,  meditative,  cultivated,  and  naturally  polished 
mind;  always  poetic,  sometimes  acute  and  shrewd,  aixl  occa- 
sionally profound.  Lady  Clara  Audrey,  in  her  Lady  Bird, 
we  take  to  be  a  remarkable  instance  of  this  delicate  skill. 
Lady  Clara  is  drawn  from  the  life  and  to  the  life ;  another 
touch  or  two  would  have  darkened  her  character  into  vul- 
garity.    As  it  is,  she  is  perfect. 

Imagine,  on  the   other  hand,  what   such   conceptions  (if 

*  The  mention  of  this  elaborately  jocose,  tremendously  benevolent,  and 
generally  dull,  though  wonderfully  popular  periodical,  reminds  us  to  warn  those 
of  our  readers  who  are  not  well  acquainted  with  its  character,  against  any 
indiscriminate  circulation  of  its  numbers  amongst  the  young  or  the  poor.  The 
greater  part  of  its  contents  are  harmless ;  but  it  has  now  and  then  an  article  or  a 
paragraph  directed  against  Catholic  doctrines  or  habits  of  the  most  pernicious 
character. 


50  •  Living  Novelists, 

imagined  at  all)  would  have  proved  when  embodied  by  the 
ardent  and  vigorous  pen  of  the  last  writer  on  our  list — the 
lady  who  has  assumed  tlie  nom  de  guerre  of  Currer  Bell.  Jane 
Eyre,  Shirley ,  and  Villette  are,  to  our  taste,  but  instances  of 
the  lengths  to  which  an  utterly  unrefined  but  strong  mind 
can  run  without  sinking  into  the  nakedly  gross  and  immoral. 
These  three  stories  represent  the  workings  of  a  woman's  mind 
in  trying  and  exceptional  circumstances.  In  the  first  and  last 
the  heroine  is  a  governess;  in  Shirley  she  is  a  woman  of  inde- 
pendent fortune.  In  all  three  there  is  an  amount  of  identity 
between  the  heroines,  which  shows  that  such  a  character  is 
regarded  by  Currer  Bell  with  no  little  sympathy  and  respect. 
Yet  few  conceptions  more  totally  unfeminine  and  unattractive 
have  ever  proceeded  from  the  pen  of  a  novelist  whose  aim  it 
has  been  to  draw  an  agreeable  personage.  Vehement  passion, 
accompanied  with  a  strong  will,  a  stedfastness  of  purpose,  a 
self-reliance  in  action,  and  a  power  of  controlling  others  to 
her  views,  appear  to  make  up  Currer  Bell's  ideal  of  an  attrac- 
tive woman  and  a  heroine.  Add  to  this  a  hardness  of  feeling, 
a  scorn  for  those  peculiarities  which  in  a  man  are  infirmities, 
but  in  a  woman  often  become  virtues,  together  with  a  certain 
animalism  of  idea  painfully  forcing  itself  into  notice, — and  we 
have  the  characteristics  of  the  novels  of  this  remarkable  and 
powerful  writer ;  for  remarkable  and  powerful  she  certainly 
is.  The  fierce  workings  and  smouldering  fires  which  heave 
and  burn  in  the  breasts  of  such  women  as  Jane  Eyre  and 
Lucy  Snowe,  she  delineates  with  rare  vigour  and  life-like  ac- 
curacy. With  true  and  clear  insight,  she  begins  her  work  by 
penetrating  into  the  deiiths  of  a  mind  such  as  she  desires  to 
depict ;  while  her  dramatic  power  in  the  development  of  cha- 
racter enables  her  to  trace  its  successive  stages  of  feeling  and 
action  with  striking  consistency  and  animation. 

Equal  praise  cannot  be  given  to  the  personages  whom  she 
groups  round  her  heroines.  They  are  for  the  most  part  vul- 
gar, coarse,  or  repellent;  often  bearing  palpable  marks  of 
being  copied  from  individuals  against  whom  the  writer  has  a 
spite,  with  strong  exaggerations  supplied  by  her  ill-will,  and 
destructive  of  the  result  as  a  work  of  literary  art.  The  North- 
country  school  in  Jane  Eyre,  and  the  Brussels  pe7ision  in 
Villette^  are  too  plainly  the  blackened  pictures  of  individual 
examples  to  be  regarded  as  fair  satires  upon  the  faults  of 
such  seminaries  and  their  superiors  as  they  are  intended  to 
portray.  The  whole  thing  is  overdone.  Madame  Beck's  ma- 
nagement is  an  impossibility.  Exagcjeration  spoils  the  whole, 
and,  as  usual,  defeats  its  own  end,  by  introducing  inconsist- 
encies which  show  how  far  it  is  departing  from  truth. 


Archdeacon  Wilherforce  on  the  Holy  Eucharist.         51 

Villette,  too,  is  throughout  a  manifestation  of  spite  against 
Brussels  and  the  Belgians,  silly  in  itself,  and  ridiculously  out 
of  place  in  a  novel.  We  wonder  what  Brussels  has  done  to 
Currer  Bell,  that  she  should  try  to  revenge  herself  by  such  a 
foolish  display  of  temper.  Her  notions  on  religion  are  what 
might  be  expected  from  so  cold  and  haughty  an  intellect. 
Were  they  not  painful,  they  would  be  laughable.  At  the 
same  time  let  us  add,  that,  unfair  as  are  her  representations 
of  Catholicism  and  Catholics,  they  are  not  so  bad  as  are  gene- 
rally to  be  found  in  the  current  popular  literature  of  the  day. 

The  relative  cleverness  of  Currer  Bell's  published  stories 
it  is  not  difficult  to  determine.  Jane  Eyre  is  the  best,  and 
Shirley  by  far  the  worst.  We  question,  however,  whether 
this  writer  has  that  in  her  which  will  enable  her  to  produce 
many  books  worth  reading.  Her  mind  is  narrow,  though 
vigorous ;  her  conceptions  few,  though  distinct ;  while  her 
experience  of  life,  and  her  sympathies  with  her  fellow-crea- 
tures are  not  of  that  wide  range  which  helps  to  make  up  for 
a  natural  want  of  largeness  of  mind  and  fertility  of  imagi- 
nation. Unless  a  decided  change  is  shown  in  her  next  work, 
we  shall  be  surprised  if  her  popularity  does  not  decline  almost 
as  rapidly  as  it  sprung  into  life. 


ARCHDEACON  WILBERFORCE  ON  THE  HOLY 
EUCHARIST. 

The  Doctri7ie  of  the  Holy  Eucharist.  By  Robert  Isaac  Wil- 
herforce, Archdeacon  of  the  East  Riding.  John  and 
Charles  Mozley,  and  J.  H.  Parker. 

This  is  among  the  most  important  theological  works  which 
recent  times  have  produced  in  this  country;  and  we  are  much 
mistaken  if  it  does  not  turn  out  to  be  one  of  the  most  influen- 
tial. It  treats  of  a  subject  of  which  the  magnitude  cannot 
be  exaggerated,  and  it  discusses  it  without  equivocation.  By 
the  admission  of  theologians  on  both  sides,  the  doctrine  upon 
which  the  whole  controversy  between  the  Church  and  Protes- 
tantism turns  is  the  "  rule  of  faith."  True  as  this  state- 
ment is  logically,  it  is  yet  no  less  true,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  that 
many  who  see  clearly  enough  that  "private  judgment"  is 
nothing  more  than  a  declamatory  abstraction,  and  that  the 
rival  rule,  ecclesiastical  authority,  can  never  be  realised  ex- 
cept in  the  Catholic  fold,  continue  to  grope  blindly  about  the 
walls  of  the  Church  instead  of  entering  in  at  the  gate.     They 


52         Archdeacon  Wilherforce  on  the  Holy  Eucharist. 

are  intellectually,  not  morally  convinced,  and  they  refuse  to 
trust  to  their  convictions.  There  is,  however,  another  doctrine, 
which  may  be  said  to  bear  the  same  relation  to  the  heart 
which  the  rule  of  faith  bears  to  the  head,  and  by  our  estimate 
of  which  the  character  of  our  theology  must  be  determined. 
It  is,  the  doctrine  of  the  Blessed  Eucharist.  Considered, 
indeed,  as  doctrine,  it  is  but  one  out  of  the  many  that  make 
up  the  stupendous  whole  of  Catholic  theology.  But  it  is  not 
a  doctrine  alone.  It  constitutes  the  essential  part  of  Christian 
worship  also;  and  it  is  an  old  adage,  that  ^' legem  credendi 
lex  sitpplicandi  statuat.''  The  Blessed  Eucharist  is  not  a  part 
merel}-  of  the  worship  of  the  Christian  Church — it  is  incom- 
parably the  principal  part;  and  in  early  times  it  was,  as 
Archdeacon  Wilherforce  truly  affirms,  the  only  part  for  which 
a  public  ritual  was  provided. 

"  We  hear,"  he  tells  us,  "  of  no  public  ritual  in  the  first  ages, 
except  that  which  was  connected  with  the  Eucharistic  office.  So  it 
certainly  was  in  the  apostles'  time  :  '  The  disciples  came  together 
to  break  bread.'  And  so  does  St.  Paul  speak  of  the  holy  Eucharist 
as  that  wliich  men  might  be  expected  to  solemnise  '  when  ye  come 
into  one  place.'  The  case  was  the  same,  according  to  Justin  Martyr, 
in  the  next  century.  The  only  public  gathering'^which  he  describes 
is  that  for  the  celebration  of  the  holy  Eucharist ;  and  this  service 
was  solemnised,  according  to  Tertullian,  both  on  the  station-days 
and  in  tlieir  nocturnal  assemblies.  No  doubt  it  must  have  been  the 
custom  of  Christians  from  the  earliest  ages  to  meet  continually  for 
the  purpose  of  prayer  and  psalmody  (as  St.  Basil  describes,  Ep. 
207)  ;  but  no  traces  of  any  thing  resembling  a  imhlic  ritual,  except 
the  Eucharistic  liturgies,  have  come  down  to  us  from  the  tlnee  first 
centuries.  The  only  exception  to  this  statement  is  the  daily  morn- 
ing and  evening  prayer  which  occurs  in  the  eighth  book  of  the 
Apostolical  Constitutions." 

If,  then,  the  Eucharistic  office,  from  the  earliest  times,  con- 
stituted substantially  the  worship  of  the  Church,  and  if  its 
worship  be  the  most  sacred  form  in  which  the  faith  of  the 
Church  is  confessed,  —  it  is  plain  that  a  Catholic  worship 
with  a  Protestant  theology  would  be  a  union  as  monstrous 
as  that  of  the  human  and  the  animal  frame  in  the  fabulous 
Centaur. 

What,  then,  is,  according  to  Mr.  Wilherforce, the  doctrine 
of  the  holy  Eucharist?  We  will  endeavour  to  delineate  it  by 
setting  forth,  as  far  as  we  may  in  his  own  language,  the  state- 
ments which  contain  the  various  portions  of  that  doctrine.  To 
do  this,  it  will  be  necessary  to  omit  almost  all  mention  of 
whole  sections  of  his  work,  wliich,  notwithstanding,  are  of  the 
highest  importance,  and  which  are  equally  remarkable  for  the 


Archdeacon  Wilberforce  on  the  Holy  Eucharist,         5S 

depth  of  their  views,  the  philosophic  precision  with  which  they 
are  expressed,  and  the  learning  with  which  they  are  illus- 
trated. We  need  hardly  say  that  he  is  far  from  adopting  the 
ordinary  Protestant  views  on  the  subject  of  which  he  treats. 
He  first  deals  with  that  very  common  evasion  of  a  difficulty 
which  disguises  indifference  in  the  garb  of  reverence,  and 
deprecates  intrusion  into  mysteries. 

"What  can  be  more  mysterious  than  the  co-existence  of  the  three 
persons  in  the  glorious  Godhead,  or  than  the  union  of  Godhead  and 
manhood  in  the  person  of  Christ?  Yet  to  make  the  depth  of  these 
truths  a  reason  for  refusing  to  accept  them  would  not  be  humility, 
but  unbelief"  He  points  out,  moreover,  that  there  is  no  doctrine 
on  which  the  judgment  of  primitive  Christians  was  more  entirely 
unanimous  than  on  this.  "  On  many  subjects,"  he  says,  "  the  Church 
was  early  rent  into  parties,  so  that  at  times  it  was  difficult  to  say 
what  doctrine  was  predominant.  But  respecting  the  holy  Eucharist 
there  existed  no  symptom  of  disagreement  for  eight  centuries  and  a 
half." 

The  authorities  whom  he  cites  are  all  taken  from  the  pe- 
riod antecedent  to  the  division  of  the  East  and  West,  and  for 
the  most  part  belong  to  the  great  age  of  the  first  four  general 
councils.  Much  of  his  teaching,  also,  is  based  on  those  ancient 
liturgies  which  "  were  not  adequately  appreciated,"  he  says, 
"in  the  sixteenth  century;"  but  which  demonstrate  '*  that 
the  holy  Eucharist  is  a  real  action,  of  which  the  elements  are 
the  subject."  In  them,  too,  he  finds  "  the  original  conse- 
cration of  the  elements  by  our  Lord  Himself,  perpetuated  by~ 
Him  through  the  words  of  institution  as  pronounced  by  His 
ministers."  The  ambiguities  too  commonly  met  with  in  the 
statements  of  Protestants  are  in  this  work  precluded  by  the 
distinctness  with  which  the  author  points  out  that  the  sacred 
character  of  the  elements,  though  of  course  it  consists  in 
nothing  of  which  the  senses  can  take  note,  is  yet  an  objective 
thing  produced  by  consecration,  and  by  the  change  which  con- 
secration effects  in  them. 

"  We  now  come  to  the  next  head  of  argument,  the  direct  state- 
ment of  ancient  writers  that  the  efficacy  of  the  holy  Eucharist  de- 
pends upon  the  change  which  consecration  effects  in  the  elements. 
....  St.  Ambrose,  then,  after  speaking  of  the  regenerating  force 
of  baptism,  goes  on  to  affirm  that  in  the  holy  Eucharist  is  vouch- 
safed the  real  presence  of  Christ's  Body  and  Blood.  '  You  may 
perhaps  say.  That  which  I  see  is  something  different;  how  do  you 
prove  to  me  that  I  receive  the  Body  of  Christ?  This  is  what  it 
remains  for  me  to  prove.  What  examples,  therefore,  am  I  to  use  ? 
Let  me  prove  that  this  is  not  that  which  nature  has  made  it,  but 
that  which  the  benediction  has  consecrated  it  to  be  ;  and  tliat  the 


54         Archdeacon  Wilherforce  on  the  Holy  Eucharists 

force  of  the  benediction  is  greater  than  that  of  nature,  because  by 
the  benediction  nature  herself  is  changed.'  Again:  the  lectures  of 
St.  Cyril  of  Jerusalem  continue,  as  in  ancient  days,  to  be  regarded 
by  the  Eastern  Church  as  a  text-book  for  the  instruction  of  the 
young.  In  his  third  mystagogical  catechism  he  says  :  *  The  bread 
in  the  Eucharist,  after  the  invocation  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  is  mere 
bread  no  longer,  but  the  Body  of  Christ.'  ...  St,  Gregory  Nyssen, 
in  his  catechetical  discourse,  speaks  of  the  human  body  of  our  Lord 
as  exalted  by  personal  union  with  Deity,  and  brings  this  forward  as 
illustrative  of  the  change  which  befalls  the  sacred  elements  :  '  With 
reason,  therefore,  do  we  believe  that  the  bread  which  is  now  sanc- 
tified by  the  word  of  God  is  transformed  into  the  Body  of  God  the 
Word.'"  He  proceeds,  "  It  was  clearly  supposed  that  the  elements 
themselves  underwent  some  change,  by  virtue  of  our  Lord's  words 
and  of  the  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost;  and  that,  through  the  conse- 
cration thus  conferred  on  them,  they  became  the  medium  of  a  certain 
mysterious  benefit."  And  what  that  benefit  was  he  clearly  defines, 
saying :  "  When  our  Lord,  then,  spoke  of  His  Body  and  Blood  as 
bestowed  upon  His  disciples  in  this  sacrament.  He  must  have  been 
understood  to  imply  that  He  Himself,  Godhead,  Soul,  and  Body, 
was  the  gift  communicated.  His  manhood  was  the  medium  through 
which  His  whole  person  was  dispensed." 

He  then  proceeds  to  illustrate  the  same  position  from  the 
usages  of  the  early  Church, — the  fact  that  the  holy  Eucharist 
was  sent  as  a  sign  of  communion,  carried  to  the  sick,  reserved 
to  be  partaken  at  home,  and  reserved  in  churches, — that  the 
"  whole  Christ  was  supposed  to  be  communicated  through 
every  part  of  either  element."  At  the  same  time,  Archdeacon 
Wilberforce  carefully  distinguishes  the  manifold  presence  of 
our  Lord  in  the  holy  Eucharist  from  that  ubiquity  which 
at  times  was  advocated  by  Luther.  "  Our  Lord's  manhood 
neither  did  nor  could  participate  in  that  omnipresence  which 
is  characteristic  of  Godhead ;  but  He  has  been  pleased  to 
bestow  on  it  a  certain  capacity  of  presence  beyond  that  which 
other  bodies  possess,  that  it  may  be  the  instrument  of  His 
own  gracious  will."  He  then  proceeds  to  show,  that  although 
the  Body  present  in  the  holy  Eucharist  be  no  other  than 
that  body  which  was  born  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  and  sufiered 
on  the  cross, — in  other  words,  than  Christ's  natural  body, —  it 
is  yet  present  in  the  consecrated  elements,  not  naturally, — that 
is,  with  attributes  which  the  senses  can  discern, — but  super- 
naturally  and  sacramentally.  This  is  a  part  of  the  subject  in 
which  unreal  and  contradictory  statements,  connected  with  an 
ambiguous  use  of  such  words  as  "carnal,"  "material,"  &c., 
are  most  often  to  be  found.  The  author  before  us,  however, 
has  passed  through  the  ordeal  successfully.  A  carnal  or  ma- 
terial presence  he  defines  to  be,  not  merely  a  presence  of 


Archdeacon  Wilherforce  on  the  Holy  Eucharist.         55 

Christ's  natural  Bod}^,  now  glorified  in  heaven;  but  a  presence 
of  It  in  those  natural  relations  in  which  bodies  ordinarily  exist, 
and  which  are  recognised  by  the  senses.  Such  a  mode  of 
presence  he  of  course  no  more  affirms  than  does  the  Catholic 
Church,  which  believes  that  to  the  senses  nothing  is  present 
except  the  species.  In  fact,  we  may  briefly  sum  up  the  teach- 
ing of  Mr.  Wilberforce  in  this  work,  by  saying  that,  with  the 
exception  of  an  occasional  and  manifestly  unintentional  inac- 
curacy of  expression,  he  teaches  the  doctrine  of  the  Catholic 
Church.  Moreover,  he  recognises  this  doctrine  as  one  of  the 
most  immediate  and  practical  importance,  as  setting  forth  the 
mode  in  which  the  great  Head  of  the  Church  unites  all  His 
living  members  to  Himself  and  to  His  Father;  and  to  this 
sacramental  presence  he  refers  our  Lord's  promise  to  His  dis- 
ciples, that  He  will  return  to  them  and  abide  with  them  for 
ever. 

Those  who  are  acquainted  with  Protestant  writers  of  the 
Patristic  school  are  aware  that  even  when  language  affirming 
the  Real  Presence  is  apparently  most  energetic,  there  still  too 
often  remains  something  equivocal  in  expression  or  confused 
in  idea,  through  which  the  force  of  this  wonderful  doctrine  is 
lost.  The  slightest  leak  in  the  ship  may  prove  as  fatal  as  the 
widest;  and  if  we  wear  not  the  whole  armour  of  the  faith,  we 
may  stand  practically  as  exposed  to  the  "  fiery  shafts"  of  the 
Tempter  as  though  we  wore  no  part  of  it.  In  many  cases  the 
danger  is  the  greater  from  its  remaining  undetected.  Thus, 
it  is  hardly  possible  for  any  community  external  to  the  Church, 
however  attached  to  that  amount  of  orthodoxy  which  it  ac- 
cepts, to  provide  a  test  fine  enough  for  the  detection  of  heresy 
in  its  subtler  forms  with  reference  to  such  doctrines  as  the 
Trinity.  It  is  otherwise,  however,  when  a  mystery  of  the 
faith  is  directly  connected  with  corresponding  action.  This 
fact  Archdeacon  Wilberforce  perceives.  He  expresses  him- 
self thus,  accordingly,  on  the  subject  of  that  adoration  of  our 
Blessed  Lord  in  the  Eucharist  which  most  of  his  countrymen 
have  been  in  the  habit,  for  several  centuries,  of  denouncing  as 
idolatry.  "  The  plainest  proof,"  he  says,  "  which  men  can. 
give  that  they  suppose  Christ  to  be  really  present  in  the 
holy  Eucharist,  is  to  render  Him  divine  honour ;"  and  a  few 
pages  later  he  proceeds  to  show  that,  tried  by  this  test  as 
well  as  by  all  others,  the  teaching  of  antiquity  is  plain  and. 
consistent:  "  That  such  was  the  opinion  of  the  ancient  Church, 
is  testified  by  its  writers  of  all  schools  and  sentiments."  Our 
limits  will  not  allow  us  to  quote  these  passages  i7i  extenso,  as 
we  could  have  wished;  we  must  refer  our  readers  for  this 
valuable  and  complete  catena  to  the  pages  of  Mr.  Wilberforce 


56         Archdeacon  Wilberforce  on  the  Holy  Eucharist. 

himself.  Doubtless  there  are  persons  who  will  attempt  to 
evade  the  force  of  the  unequivocal  language  which  our  author 
has  quoted  from  the  Fathers  on  this  head,  and  to  represent 
the  worship  which  they  assert  to  be  due  to  the  blessed  Sacra- 
ment, by  reason  of  its  inner  part  (the  res  sacramenti),  as 
nothing  more  than  the  outward  tokens  of  decorous  reverence. 
Doubtless,  also,  they  will  be  found  in  the  number  of  those 
very  persons  who,  with  such  an  inexplicable  confidence,  deny 
that  the  word  *  worship'  can  bear  two  different  meanings,  when 
used  by  Catholics  in  the  sense  of  latria  and  referred  to  God, 
or  of  dulia  and  referred  to  God's  saints.  The  evasion,  how- 
ever, in  the  one  instance  is  as  weak  as  the  confusion  of  mind 
is  deplorable  in  the  other.  The  sacramental  worship  resting 
simply  on  the  fact,  that  Christ  is  present  in  the  blessed  Sacra- 
ment, and  must  therefore  receive  the  same  worship  as  He 
would  receive  if  once  more  visibly  present  among  us  in  the 
flesh,  the  tribute  offered  to  Him  must  be  that  of  divine  wor- 
ship, unless  the  Divinity  of  Christ  be  denied. 

We  now  proceed  from  the  sacramental  to  the  sacrificial  part 
of  the  holy  Eucharist;  and  we  rejoice  to  be  able  to  state  that  here 
too  Archdeacon  Wilberforce's  teaching  is  distinct.  It  sets 
forth  clearly  the  sacred  doctrine  of  the  Mass.  Seeing,  as  he 
does,  the  plain  meaning  of  St.  Paul's  expressions  with  respect 
to  holy  Communion,  "  the  bread  which  we  break,"  &c.,  and 
"not  discerning  the  Lord's  Body,"  and  "  we  are  one  bread,'* 
&c.,  he  recognises  equally  St.  Paul's  declaration  respecting 
the  sacrifice  included  in  the  great  "  act"  of  Christian  worship. 
He  has  no  sympathy  with  those  who,  unwilling  to  abandon 
the  ancient  and  exalted  claim  to  a  sacrifice,  yet  explain  the 
word  away  as  meaning  no  more  than  the  sacrifice  of  our 
"  alms  and  oblations"  of  prayer,  and  of  "  ourselves,  our  souls, 
and  our  bodies ;"  a  sacrifice  which,  of  course,  we  are  bound  to 
pay  at  all  times,  but  which  is  not  essentially  of  a  sacramental 
character,  though  it  may  be  consecrated  by  being  oftercd  up 
in  and  with  the  Eucharistic  sacrifice.  Still  less  favour  does 
he  show  to  the  allegation,  that  the  sacrifice  consists  only  in 
the  oblation  of  the  bread  and  wine  as  distinguished  from  the 
sacred  Victim,  who,  after  consecration,  becomes  the  res  sacra- 
menti.     He  expresses  himself  thus  : 

"Is  not  this  to  be  deluded  by  a  system  of  shadows?  There  is 
a  consistency  in  denying  that  the  service  is  a  sacrifice  at  all :  it  is 
to  reject  the  concurrent  sentence  of  all  antiquity,  to  divest  the  wor- 
ship of  the  Christian  Church  of  its  reality,  and  to  detract  from  the 
present  efficacy  of  the  intercession  of  Christ :  yet,  though  a  false 
system,  it  is  harmonious  witli  itself.  But  to  allow  the  holy  Euchar- 
ist to  be  a  sacrifice,  yet  suppose  that  nothing  is  offered  but  its  ex^ 


Archdeacon  Wilberforce  on  the  Holy  Eucharist.        57 

ternal  shell  and  covering, — that  the  Church  honours  God  by  pre- 
senting to  Hira  the  empty  husk  of  its  Victim, — is  little  consonant 
with  the  truth  and  actuality  of  the  Christian  dispensation.'' 

And  he  thus  recapitulates  the  judgment  of  the  Church  dur- 
ing the  period  that  intervened  between  the  first  and  fourth 
general  council,  having  previously  observed  (and  the  remark 
applies  equally  to  all  doctrines  not  subjects  of  dispute  in  early 
times),  that  "  there  is  no  historical  ground  for  supposing  that 
the  opinion  of  the  third  and  fourth  centuries  on  this  subject 
was  different  from  that  of  the  first  and  second." 

"  The  thing  offered  in  the  holy  Eucharist  is  affirmed  in  express 
terms  to  be  the  Body  of  Christ.  St.  Cyril's  account  of ''that  holy 
and  most  awful  sacrifice'  is,  that  '  we  offer  up  Christ  sacrificed  for 
our  sins.'  St.  Augustin's  way  of  stating  that  the  holy  Eucharist  had 
been  celebrated  in  the  house  of  Hesperius  is,  that  a  priest  '  offered 
up  there  the  sacrifice  of  tlie  Body  of  Christ.'  He  affirms  that  our 
Lord  has  made  '  the  sacrifice  of  His  own  Body'  to  be  '  the  sacra- 
ment of  the  faithful ;'  and  he  discriminates  between  the  Ciiristian 
and  the  Jewish  covenant  by  saying  that  'instead  of  all  tliose  sacri- 
fices and  oblations,  His  Body  is  offered  and  is  ministered  to  the  par- 
ticipants.' St.  Maximus  justifies  the  custom  of  burying  the  bodies  of 
saints  under  the  altar,  by  observing  that  '  Christ  is  placed  upon  the 
altar.'  St.  Cyril  of  Alexandria's  description  of  the  holy  Eucharist 
is,  that  '  the  Son  is  voluntarily  sacrificed,  not  to-day  by  the  hands  of 
God's  enemies,  but  by  Himself.' 

"  Secondly, — The  sacrifice  offered  in  the  holy  Eucharist  is  af- 
firmed not  to  be  any  thing  superadded  to  that  on  the  cross,  nor  yet 
a  repetition  of  it.  For  it  was  maintained  that  the  sacrifice  on  the 
cross  was  a  per'petual  sacrifice,  which  had  been  consummated  in 
our  Lord's  death,  in  order  that  it  might  be  continually  brought  be- 
fore God  in  the  holy  Eucharist 

"  Thirdly, — The  victim  offered  in  the  holy  Eucharist  was  said  to 
be  identical  with  Him  who  offered  it.  Such  was  the  constant  lan- 
guage of  the  liturgies 

"Fourthly, — It  was  the  habitual  custom  of  ancient  writers  to 
speak  of  the  sacrifice  of  the  holy  Eucharist  as  awful,  august,  and 
terrible.  The  liturgy  of  St.  James  calls  it  'the  tremendous  and 
unbloody  sacrifice' 

"  Fifthly, — They  speak  of  the  sacrifice  of  the  holy  Eucharist  as 
truly  efficacious  for  the  obtaining  of  all  those  things  which  are  the 
subject-matter  of  prayer  and  intercession." 

The  extracts  we  have  given  are  more  than  enough  to  show 
how  completely  the  Catholic  doctrine  of  the  holy  Eucharist, 
both  as  sacrament  and  sacrifice,  is  vindicated  by  Archdeacon 
Wilberforce.  We  regret  that  our  limits  prevent  us  from 
doing  equal  justice  to  the  mode  in  which  he  illustrates  that 
doctrine  and  replies  to  objections.      Thus,   in   dealing  with 


58         Archdeacon  Wilberforce  on  the  Holy  Eucharist, 

those  passages  in  the  Fathers  in  which,  as  in  the  canon  of  the 
Mass,  the  elements,  even  after  consecration,  are  sometimes 
called  bread  and  wine,  he  shows  with  the  utmost  clearness 
that  such  expressions  refer  to  the  outward  sign;  and  also  that 
that  sign  represents,  not  an  absent  thing  thus  recalled  to  the 
imagination,  but  the  dread  and  sacred  reality  (the  res  sacra- 
menti)  which  is  actually  present  and  communicated.  In 
reply  to  the  objection,  so  natural  in  the  mouth  of  those  who 
have  never  fathomed  the  mystery  of  Christ's  incarnation  and 
mediation,  that  the  tenet  of  a  propitiatory  sacrifice  in  the 
holy  Eucharist  must  detract  from  the  all-perfect  Sacrifice 
made  for  us  on  Calvary,  and  the  intercession  which  our  Lord 
makes  for  us  in  heaven,  he  shows  that,  on  the  contrary,  the 
last-named  doctrines  derive  a  tenfold  significance  from  that 
one  which,  on  an  empirical  view,  seems  to  oppose  them.  He 
points  out  that  the  notion  that  our  Lord's  Body  cannot  be  on 
earth  because  it  is  also  in  heaven  proceeds  from  a  false  and 
superficial  philosophy,  such  as  would  equally  have  proved 
that  our  Lord  had  never  become  incarnate  because  he  never 
left  His  Father's  right  hand  in  heaven.  He  sets  forth  the 
fatal  consequences  that  result  from  that  confusion  of  thought 
which  assumes  that  the  "  Body"  present  in  the  holy  Eucharist 
cannot  be  that  Body  which  was  born  of  the  Blessed  Virgin 
and  suffered  on  the  cross,  merely  because  it  is  not  present  to 
the  senses. 

Another  very  valuable  section  of  the  work  is  that  in  which 
the  author  treats  of  the  Reformers,  pointing  out  what  heresy 
it  was  in  the  teaching  of  each  school  which  rendered  it  impos- 
sible for  its  adherents  to  receive  the  doctrine  of  the  holy 
Eucharist,  or  even  to  retain  such  a  portion  of  it  as  they  had 
originally  acknowledged.  This  subject  is  treated  with  great 
discrimination  under  the  headings  which  refer  to  Zuinglius, 
Calvin,  and  Luther.  The  errors  and  shortcomings  of  several 
Anglican  writers  of  the  High-Church  school,  such  as  Water- 
land  and  Johnson,  are  also  indicated,  though  briefly  and  with 
tenderness.  To  the  "  Low-Church"  writers  of  recent  or  of 
earlier  times,  the  Archdeacon  hardly  alludes.  To  what  class 
Jewell  would  be  referred  by  him  we  hardly  know.  Li  an  old 
folio  edition,  with  black-letter  and  wooden  boards,  he  looks 
like  one  of  the  "giants"  of  whom  we  have  heard  so  much. 
Li  the  octavo  reprint  of  the  Parker  Society,  his  doctrines 
would  seem  occasionally  to  fall  very  far  short  not  only  of 
Archdeacon  Wilberforce's,  but  of  those  which  he  condemns 
in  Luther  and  Calvin.  His  most  celebrated  work  was  once 
chained  to  the  comnnmion-tables  in  the  Reformed  Church  of 
England,  as  its  decus  et  tutamen.     Is  the  theological  student 


Archdeacon  Wilberforce  on  the  Holy  Eucharist,         59 

of  the  present  day  to  adopt  tlie  bishop's  readmg  of  antiquity 
or  that  of  the  Archdeacon  ?  Jewell  lifted  up  his  hands  in 
horror  at  the  Church  of  England  being  charged  with  novelties. 
She  had,  as  he  maintained,  only  discarded  corruptions  of  a 
later  date,  while  she  retained  the  faith  of  the  ancient  Church. 
Yet  we  believe  that,  according  to  him,  the  Eucharistic  Ado- 
ration, as  then  and  now  practised  by  Catholics,  is  idolatry  ; 
and  that  the  Eucharistic  Sacrifice,  as  explained  by  the  school- 
men, the  Council  of  Trent,  and  the  Archdeacon,  is  affirmed  to 
supersede  Calvary,  and  substitute  human  priests  for  Christ! 
Who  shall  decide  between  contending  versions  of  antiquity? 
are  these  matters  indifferent  or  non-fundamental  ?  Is  it 
venial,  on  the  one  hand,  to  worship  a  piece  of  bread ;  or,  on 
the  other,  to  treat  the  Redeemer  of  the  world,  when  His  in- 
effable condescension  brings  Him  among  us  in  that  Body 
which  suffered  for  our  sins,  as  no  more  than  a  piece  of  bread  ? 
We  have  all  heard  of  a  certain  oath  which  proclaims  that  the 
Mass  is  idolatry.  Is  that  oath  a  lamentable  truth,  such  as 
must  be  proclaimed  even  though  it  brands  with  so  deadly  an 
opprobrium  what  even  Protestants  recognise  as  the  enormous 
majority  of  the  Christian  body,  and  practically  proclaims  that 
during  far  the  greater  part  of  its  existence  on  earth,  the 
temple  of  Christ  had  become  a  temple  of  idols  ?  Or,  on  the 
other  hand,  is  it  the  most  appalling  of  all  those  calumnies  to 
which  human  blindness  and  presumption  have  ever  committed 
themselves?  These  seem  to  us  to  be  important  questions, 
if  the  glory  of  God  and  the  salvation  of  souls  involve  aught  of 
importance.  If  fcithers,  councils,  and  primitive  liturgies 
were  capable  of  substituting  idolatry  and  priestcraft  for  the 
worship  of  one  God  through  one  Mediator,  it  is  high  time  to 
discard  the  appeal  to  antiquity.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  they 
taught  but  the  truth  of  God ;  and  if,  notwithstanding,  their 
doctrine  is  branded  as  falsehood,  not  only  by  those  who  ac- 
knowledge no  authority  save  that  of  "  private  judgment,"  but 
also  by  the  professed  followers  of  antiquity,  wlio  then,  in  the 
midst  of  these  contradictions,  may  reasonably  hope  that  he  is 
offering  to  God  that  worship  which  is  well-pleasing  in  His 
sight,  and  faithfully  confessing  that  truth  which  God  has  re- 
vealed to  us  in  Christ  ? 

We  need  not  say  that  we  entirely  adopt  Archdeacon 
Wilberforce's  reading  of  antiquity,  and  that  it  is  simply  that 
which  is  corroborated,  not  only  by  the  judgment  of  the 
Church,  but  also  of  the  Eastern  separated  communions,  as 
well  since  as  previous  to  the  Eastern  schism.  Nay  more,  the 
Archdeacon  has  shown  from  the  liturgies  of  the  Nestorians 
and  other  heretical  bodies,  who  have  had  no  communion  with 


60         Archdeacon  Wilherforce  on  the  Holy  Eucharist. 

the  Church  ever  since  their  separation  at  the  period  of  the 
earlier  general  councils,  that  Providence  has  preserved  an  in- 
dependent witness  sufficient  to  prove  the  primitive  character 
of  that  worship  which  he  maintains  to  have  been  instituted 
by  our  Lord  and  His  apostles,  even  though  w^e  were  to  as- 
sume an}'  thing  so  utterly  improbable  as  that  all  the  liturgies 
of  the  West  and  of  the  "  Orthodox  Greek"  bodies  had  been 
tampered  with,  and  tampered  with  in  the  same  parts.  Autho- 
rity, then,  is  as  clearly  with  the  Archdeacon  as  he  has  shown 
holy  Scripture  and  a  profound  Christian  theology  to  be. 
But  it  is  equally  certain  that  very  nearly  the  whole  of  Angli- 
can authority  is  against  him  in  all  the  critical  points  of  his 
teaching.  It  is  not  long  since  Dr.  Pusey  was  silenced  for  two 
years  in  consequence  of  teaching  but  a  small  part  of  what  the 
Archdeacon  now  teaches  with  incomparably  more  of  scientific 
precision  as  well  as  of  boldness  and  of  depth.  It  is  true  that 
there  has  always  been  a  High-Church  teaching  as  well  as  a 
Low-Church  on  this  subject,  and  that  there  exist  two  or  three 
passages  which  go  beyond  the  rest  in  strength,  and  wdiich  be- 
come perfectly  orthodox  when  placed  in  a  context  such  as 
that  with  wdiich  our  author's  quotations  from  the  fathers 
supply  them.  But,  in  the  main,  such  expressions  have  alwa3"s 
been  more  than  balanced  by  others  of  an  opposite  character, 
or  they  have  been  too  vague  and  equivocal  to  carry  with  them 
any  practical  effect.  Some  writers  have  spoken  of  the  Body 
of  Christ  as  present,  yet  have  abstained  from  saying  that  by 
the  word  "  Body"  is  meant  that  Body  which  was  born  of  the 
Blessed  Virgin,  is  now  glorified  in  heaven,  and  is  also  sacra- 
mentally  and  really  present  at  all  the  altars  of  the  Church 
militant  after  consecration.  Others  have  spoken  of  a  sacri- 
fice;  but  have  shrunk  from  saying,  that  in  that  "pure  obla- 
tion," offered  all  over  the  world  from  the  rising  of  the  sun  to 
the  setting  of  the  same,  Christ  is,  as  at  Calvary,  at  once  the 
Priest  and  the  Victim.  The  most  remarkable  of  these  ambi- 
guities is  to  be  found  in  the  most  solemn  part  of  the  Anglican 
Prayer-Book.  In  the  first  book  of  King  Edward,  the  form  of 
words  used  in  administering  the  holy  elements  corresponded 
pretty  nearly  with  the  first  part  of  the  form  still  retained : 
**  The  Body  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  which  was  given  for 
thee,  preserve  thy  body  and  soul  unto  everlasting  life."  The 
German  Reformers  objected  to  that  form.  It  is  not  necessary 
to  give  a  history  of  the  changes  which  took  place  in  compil- 
ing the  Book  of  Common  Prayer :  it  will  suffice  to  observe 
how  the  matter  has  ended.  The  clause  we  have  quoted  re- 
tains its  place ;  but  to  it  is  added  another  which  admits  of, 
and  almost  universally  receives,  an  interpretation  not  only 


Archdeacon  Wilberforce  on  the  Holy  Eucharist,        61 

un-catliolic,  but  indentical  with  that  Zuinglian  view  which^ 
the  Archdeacon  denounces ;  **  Take  and  eat  this  in  remem- 
brance that  Christ  died  for  thee,  and  feed  on  Him  in  thy  heart 
by  faith  with  thanksgiving."  The  form  is  thus  CathoHc  or- 
Protestant,  recognises  a  real  Presence  or  a  subjective  Pre- 
sence relative  to  the  faith  of  the  recipient,  according  as  one 
chooses  to  interpret  the  first  sentence  by  the  last,  or  the  last 
by  the  first.  This  form  is  the  type  upon  which  Anglican 
teaching  has  always  formed  itself,  except  in  the  Low-Church 
schools,  and  among  a  very  few  writers,  the  most  advanced,  of  the 
modern  High-Church.  It  is  one  which  has  often  been  praised 
on  the  ground  of  **  comprehensiveness."  This  is  a  mistake, 
though  one  into  which  not  only  a  statesman  resolved  inquieta 
non  movere,  but  yet  more  an  enthusiastic  lover  of  the  united 
Church  of  England  and  Ireland  is  naturally  betrayed.  Com- 
prehensiveness and  equivocation  are  two  wholly  different 
things.  To  attain  the  former,  you  have  only  to  avoid  expres- 
sions that  treat  of  litigated  points.  The  latter  affects  to  pro- 
nounce on  such  points,  but  solves  them  in  opposite  ways,  and 
by  means  of  ambiguous  expressions  which  enable  each  party 
to  claim  the  victory,  and  to  assert,  though  not  to  attain,  an 
exclusive  position.  Merely  comprehensive  formularies  in  the 
sixteenth  century  must  have  utterly  failed,  since  they  could 
have  included  in  a  single  fold  only  those  who  were  willing  to 
compromise  their  opinions,  and  to  account  doctrinal  differ- 
ences things  of  no  moment.  Such  latitudinarianism  is  not 
the  first,  but  the  last  stage  of  Protestantism.  The  English 
nation,  in  whom,  as  in  the  English  language,  there  are  two 
very  different  elements,  would  have  divided  itself  into  two 
sections,  one  Catholic  and  one  Protestant,  had  not  a  Church 
with  two  aspects  and  two  systems  of  interpretation  been  pro- 
vided for  it,  and  been  furnished  with  equivocal  formularies. 
On  the  other  hand,  it  is  the  necessary  tendency  of  an  equivo- 
cation to  come  sooner  or  later  to  an  explanation.  Neither 
statesman  nor  churchman  has  a  right  to  complain  when 
simple-minded  people,  willing  to  believe,  but  knowing  not 
w^hat  to  believe,  —  puzzled  by  creeds  and  articles,  yet  as- 
sured that  doctrine  is  part  of  Christianity,  since  Christ  is 
"  the  Truth"  as  well  as  '"  the  Life," — take  the  liberty  of  ask- 
ing, "  What  does  this  mea7i  .^"  From  this  simple  necessity 
proceed  "  stone-altar  judgments,"  discussions  on  "non-natural 
interpretations,"  and  "  Gorham  cases."  The  passions  of  indi- 
viduals are  but  incidentally  connected  with  such  movements, 
for  which,  whether  inconvenient  or  not,  there  is  no  remedy 
except  in  religious  lethargy  and  a  spiritual  "  Godfrey's 
Cordial." 


62         Archdeacon  Wilherforce  on  the  Holy  Eucharist, 

We  cannot  pass  by  without  allusion  one  or  two  passages 
in  which  our  author  endeavours  to  show  that  certain  strong 
statements  of  the  Anglican  Prayer-book  may  be  interpreted  in 
a  sense  not  necessarily  heterodox ;  though,  on  the  other  hand, 
we  should  be  doing  him  injustice  if  we  spent  much  time 
on  them.  After  proving  that  the  ancient  Church  believed 
that  the  sacred  elements  underwent  a  change  on  consecration, 
he  has  to  meet  the  statement  of  the  Anglican  28th  Article, 
in  which  Transubsiantiation  is  repudiated  on  the  ground 
{inter  alia)  that  it  "  overthroweth  the  nature  of  a  Sacrament." 
This  bold  assertion  he  tries  to  explain  away  by  saying  that 
the  Article  does  not  mean  to  deny  a  change  affecting  the  sub- 
stance of  the  bread  in  that  sense  in  which  the  word  substance 
was  used  by  St.  Thomas,  and  subsequently  by  the  Council  of 
Trent,  viz.  in  contradistinction  to  the  accidents  or  species ; 
but  that  it  uses  the  word  *  substance'  in  an  opposite  sense,  and 
in  reference  to  "  that  which  is  material  in  the  consecrated 
elements, — the  sacramentum,  namely,  or  outward  and  visible 
sign,"  which  he  explains  as  "  that  which  is  an  object  to  the 
senses !"  Indeed !  Is  it  possible  that  the  men  who  drew  up 
the  Articles  did  not  know  the  theological  meaning  of  the 
word  "  substance  ?"  So  far  from  this  being  the  case,  the  first 
Article  affirms  that  "  in  the  unity  of  this  Godhead  there  be 
three  persons  of  one  substance,  power,  and  eternity ;"  and 
surely  it  does  not  use  the  word  in  the  sense  now  popular,  and 
as  equivalent  to  sensuous.  Again,  the  Reformers  had  them- 
selves been  Catholics  before  the  revolt;  must  they  not  then 
have  understood  the  Catholic  meaning  of  theological  terms  ? 
Once  more,  what  imaginable  object  could  have  been  gained 
by  framing  safeguards  against  errors,  real  or  imaginary,  in 
expressions  used  by  Anastasius  Sinaita,  or  any  other  ancient 
author,  when  the  question  at  issue  was  the  theology  of  their 
own  day  ?  As  well  might  they  have  framed  an  article  against 
mediasval  miracles,  and  afterwards  explained  it  away  as  re- 
ferring only  to  such  wonders  as  Simon  Mcigus,  not  Simon 
Peter,  had  wrought.  Even  the  notion  of  the  Capharnaites 
involved  no  contradiction  such  as  Archdeacon  Wilherforce 
supposes  the  28th  Article  to  have  condemned.  Their  error 
was  gross  and  carnal  indeed,  but  it  did  not  consist  in  denying 
the  *'  outward  sign"  of  the  Sacrament,  but  in  a  conception  of 
the  most  opposite  character.  The  existence  of  the  outward 
sign,  moreover,  was  not  denied,  but  was  asserted  by  the  Ca- 
tholic theology,  as  well  before  as  after  the  Council  of  Trent, 
and  was  as  much  a  part  of  the  popular  theology  as  of  the 
scientific  definitions.  What  is  material  in  the  bread,  in  the 
Archdccicon's  sense, — that  is,  what  is  presented  to  the  senses, — 


Archdeacon  Wilberforce  on  the  Holy  Eucharist.         63 

is  simply  the  species.  To  deny  the  existence  of  these,  is  not 
only  an  absurdity,  but  a  contradiction  in  terms,  making  the 
senses  deny  the  very  impressions  made  on  themselves  in  their 
own  proper  province.  Surely  the  dogma  to  which  the  S8th 
Article  refers  must  have  been  the  well-known  dogma  actually 
held  by  the  Catholic  Church,  not  an  abstract  absurdity  neither 
held  then  nor  now. 

Mr.  Wilberforce  is  not  more  successful  in  his  attempt  to 
show  that  "the  actual  lu  or  ship  paid  to  Christ,  as  the  res 
sacramenti,  is  not  neutralised  by  the  rubric  in  the  English 
ordinal."  That  it  was  distinctly  denied  by  certain  passages 
in  the  English  Prayer-Book,  placed  there  in  the  year  1552,  he 
admits ;  but  he  proceeds  to  state  that  this  was  done  in  de- 
ference to  Calvin's  views,  and  that  Calvin's  views  are  not  im- 
plied in  the  later  changes  which  took  place  in  156^. 

"The  rubric  only  affirms  that  Christ's  natural  Body  and  Blood 
are  in  heaven  and  not  here,  and  that  no  adoration  is  intended  '  eidier 
unto  the  sacramental  bread  and  wine  there  bodily  received,  or  unto 
any  corporal  presence  of  Christ's  natural  Flesh  and  Blood.'  The 
rubric  certainly  does  not  go  on  to  state,  as  it  might  have  done,  that 
though  Christ's  Body  and  Blood  are  not  naturally  present,  except 
in  lieaven,  yet  that  their  supernatural  presence  is  bestowed  in  the 
holy  Eucharist  ;  and  that  though  no  adoration  be  due  to  the  bread 
and  wine,  or  to  any  such  corporal  presence  as  the  senses  can  take 
cognisance  of,  yet  that  Christ's  Body  and  Blood,  really  present, 
under  the  forms  of  bread  and  wine,  as  the  inward  part,  or  res  sacra- 
menti, are  entitled  to  and  receive  adoration." 

The  best  mode  in  which  an  Anglican  can  test  this  curious 
reading  of  the  rubric  would  be,  as  it  strikes  us,  to  inquire  in 
how  many  of  the  Anglican  churches  "the  presence  of  Cln-ist's 
Body  and  Blood  is  witnessed  by  tlie  adoration  to  which  they 
are  entitled."  But  the  rubric  is,  on  our  author's  principles, 
false  in  its  amended  as  well  as  in  its  previous  state.  The 
natural  Body  and  Blood  of  Christ  are  present  on  earth,  as  well 
as  in  heaven,  after  consecration,  though  not  in  any  natural 
relations  of  which  the  senses  can  take  cognisance ;  and  the 
presence  of  Christ's  Body  is  a  corporal  presence,  though  not 
a  sensuous  one.  To  excuse  this  rubric  on  the  plea  that  the 
adoration  which  it  repudiates,  and  which  it  of  course  at- 
tributes to  those  who  practise  what  it  condemns,  is  simply  an 
adoration  of  the  outward  sign,  or  bread  and  wine, — is  as  poor 
an  excuse  as  if  one  were  to  plead  for  the  Mahometans  that 
in  assailing  the  worship  of  the  Holy  Trinity  they  only  con- 
demn the  worship  of  three  Gods.  The  fact  is,  that  they 
reject  the  mystery  of  the  Trinity ;  and,  as  is  the  case  in  every 
instance,  whether  of  heresy  or  unbelief,  they  misapprehend 

VOL.  I. NEW  SERIES.  F 


64?  Archdeacon  Wilherforce  on  the  Holy  Eucharist, 

what  they  reject.  For  this,  however,  they  are  responsible, 
since  the  revelation  which  God  gave,  and  which  stands  at- 
tested by  the  Church,  **  the  pillar  and  ground  of  the  truth,'* 
is  one  which  "men  of  good  will"  are  capable  of  apprehending 
and  of  believing.  If  we  refuse  to  adore  the  Holy  Trinity,  or  our 
Incarnate  Redeemer  in  the  Blessed  Eucharist,  it  is  in  vain  to 
plead  as  an  excuse,  that  we  also  accuse  the  Christian  Church 
of  worshipping  three  gods  or  a  piece  of  bread.  After  all, 
what  benefit  can  result  from  explaining  away  one  passage 
when  the  next  refuses  to  submit  to  the  process  ?  The  Arch- 
deacon attempts  no  solution  of  the  olst  Article:  "Where- 
fore the  sacrifices  of  masses,  in  the  which  it  was  commonly 
said  that  the  priest  did  ofifer  Christ  for  the  quick  and  the  dead, 
to  have  remission  of  pain  or  guilt,  were  blasphemous  fables 
and  dangerous  deceits."  A  process  of  reasoning  which  could 
reconcile  the  Church  of  England  with  the  principles  of  the 
author  before  us  would  be  equally  successful  in  vindicating 
the  Presbyterian  Kirk  of  Scotland ;  but  it  would  also  verify 
the  statement  of  the  Dean  of  St.  Patrick,  that  the  use  of 
language  was  to  conceal  our  ideas. 

Let  us  return,  however,  to  the  more  agreeable  part  of  our 
task.  To  appreciate  the  degree  in  which  Archdeacon  Wilber- 
force's  work  is  in  advance  of  analogous  works  on  the  same 
subject,  we  cannot  do  better  than  compare  its  statements 
with  those  of  the  Nonjurors,  and  especially  of  those  among 
them  whose  expressions  could  have  been  modified  by  no  re- 
maining allegiance  to  the  Anglican  Church.  A  portion  of 
the  Nonjuring  body,  after  much  study  of  antiquity,  had  ar- 
rived at  the  conclusion,  that  the  political  position  of  the 
Established  Church  was  not  more  untenable  than  its  theo- 
logy, and  that  in  its  mode  of  celebrating  the  oflice  of  holy  Com- 
munion there  were  certain  defects  of  an  absolutely  fatal  na- 
ture. Curiously  enough,  those  defects  were  different  from 
the  deficiencies  acknowledged  by  the  Archdeacon.  The  essen- 
tials which  they  insisted  on  were  four,  viz.  (1st),  that  water  is 
an  essential  part  of  the  Eucharistic  cup  ;  (2dly),  that  the  obla- 
tion of  the  elements  to  God  the  Father,  and  (odly)  the  in- 
vocation of  the  Holy  Spirit  upon  them,  are  essential  parts  of 
consecration  ;  and  (4'thly),  that  the  faithful  departed  ought 
to  be  recommended  in  the  Eucharistic  commemoration.  So 
strong  were  their  convictions,  that  those  who  maintained 
them  thought  it  necessary  to  separate  not  only  from  the 
Church  of  England,  but  from  as  many  of  their  brethren 
among  the  Nonjurors  as  did  not  share  their  views.  From 
their  conduct  many  interesting  inferences  might  be  drawn. 
It  suggests  the  idea  that  an  infallible  authority,  such  as  can 


Archdeacon  Wilherforce  on  tlie  Holy  Eucharist.         Q5 

only  be  found  in  tlie  voice  of  the  living  Churcli,  is  necessary  not 
merely  to  determine  doctrine,  but  also  to  determine  with  cer- 
tainty what  is  the  right  mode  of  administering  the  Sacraments 
and  of  conducting  divine  worship;  for  the  two  parties  among 
the  Nonjurors  differed  not  on  the  doctrine  of  the  holy  Eu- 
charist, but  on  the  question  as  to  how  much  is  essential  in 
the  sacramental  ritual.  It  suggests,  again,  the  idea,  that  if 
before  the  great  scandals  of  more  recent  times  had  occurred — 
the  suppression  of  Convocation,  the  Jerusalem  bishopric, 
the  Hampden  case,  and  the  Gorham  case, — some  of  the  most 
learned  and  pious  men  in  the  Anglican  Church  believed  that 
it  had  so  fatally  separated  from  the  primitive  model,  that  seve- 
rance from  it  was  absolutely  necessary  in  order  to  be  in  com- 
munion with  the  *  Apostolic  Church,' — there  must  be  some- 
thing unreal  and  factious  in  the  outcry  raised  against  those 
who  have  recently  been  denounced  as  schismatics,  traitors, 
apostates,  &c.,  because,  under  circumstances  so  much  more 
aggravated,  they  too  at  last  arrived,  however  reluctantly,  at 
convictions  fatal  to  the  religious  community  in  defence  of 
which  they  had  so  long  contended.  Instead  of  pursuing  such 
trains  of  reflection,  however,  we  shall  content  ourselves  with 
alluding  to  a  circumstance  which  is  replete  with  matter  for 
thought.  The  Nonjuring  attempt  at  orthodoxy  passed  away, 
and  left  no  trace  behind.  After  the  lapse  of  a  century,  the 
religion  of  England  had  fallen  into  a  condition  compared  with 
which  even  the  Evangelical  revival  was  orthodoxy.  Dr.  Brett, 
in  his  work  on  the  primitive  liturgies,  and  in  vindication  of 
the  new  liturgy  drawn  up  by  the  Nonjurors,  expressed  an 
earnest  hope  that  the  example  of  devotion  to  antiquity  shown 
by  him  and  his  friends  might  not  be  thrown  away  upon  an 
age  which  he  asserted  to  be  the  most  learned  since  the  Re- 
formation.    It  was,  in  his  opinion,  a  time  of  hope. 

"  Having  then  bishops,  priests,  and  deacons,  and  a  flock  also, 
though  a  very  little  one,  with  us,  we  could  not  but  conceive  we  made 
a  cliurch  according  to  St.  Cyprian's  definition  of  it"  (p.  420,  edit. 
1838).  ..."  In  so  doing  we  have  followed  the  doctrine  taught  by 
many  eminent  divines  of  the  Church  of  England,  as  Dr.  Hammond, 
Mr.  Thorndike,  Bishop  Hickes,  Archbishop  Wake,  Mr.  Johnson, 
Mr.  Bingham,  and  others  ;  and  what  is  more  than  all  these,  tlie 
doctrine  of  the  Church  of  England  itself."  A  close  adherence  to 
primitive  antiquity  and  apostolic  usage  is,  he  asserts,  the  doctrine 
of  the  Church  of  England.  But  the  four  points  for  which  he  con- 
tends in  the  celebration  of  the  holy  Eucharist  can  be  proved,  he 
also  asserts,  to  be  apostolic,  by  a  demonstration  as  cogent  as  that  on 
which  we  receive  the  holy  Scriptures.  "  Wherefore  finding  the 
practice  of  the  Church  of  England  to  be  so  plainly  different  from 


66         Archdeacon  JVilherforce  on  the  Holy  Eucharist. 

her  doctrine,  we  tliouglit  it  our  duty,  in  obedience  to  our  Saviour's 
command,  to  relinquish  the  practice  to  observe  the  doctrine." 

That  this  section  of  the  Nonjurors  had  at  least  as  good  a  right 
to  separate  themselves  from  a  local  and  national  Church,  as 
that  Church  had  to  separate  from  the  orhis  tei'rarum,  and 
from  that  apostolic  see  to  which  the  Anglo-Saxon  race  was 
indebted  for  its  Christianity,  needs  little  proof.  Another  ques- 
tion remains,  however;  it  is  this:  Why.  if  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land was  at  that  time  so  replete  with  learning,  and  if  the  zeal 
for  orthodoxy  was  so  vehement,  both  within  her  pale  and 
without  it,  —  W'hy  did  a  few  years  suffice  to  allow  all  this  or- 
thodoxy to  pass  into  the  world  of  shadows  and  legend  ? 

We  cannot  but  believe  that  the  answer  to  this  question  is 
to  be  found  in  the  circumstances  which  constitute  the  essential 
difference  between  view^s  at  first  sight  so  like  each  other  as 
those  of  the  modern  High  Churchmen  and  the  Nonjurors. 
The  period  at  which  the  Nonjurors  lived  was  a  cold  and 
dry  one,  such  as  naturally  followed  the  exhausted  fervours 
of  Puritanism,  and  the  long  debauch  of  Charles  ll.'s  court. 
Its  learning  was,  in  too  many  cases,  a  mere  frigid  book- 
learning,  captious  about  matters  of  detail,  and  incapable  of 
recognising  great  principles.  Dr.  Brett  and  his  friends  had 
not,  like  Archdeacon  Wilberforce,  traced  the  doctrine  of  the 
Sacraments  to  their  root  in  the  doctrine  and  living  fact  of 
the  Incarnation.  It  was  consequently  in  the  spirit  of  anti- 
quarians, rather  than  of  scientific  theologians,  that  they  at- 
tached importance  to  whatever  usages  connected  with  them 
<;ould  be  proved  to  have  been  ancient.  Where  pedantry  rules, 
the  light  of  great  ideas  is  lost.  Hence  the  strange  inconsis- 
tency between  the  zeal  of  the  Nonjurors  and  the  pettiness  of 
the  objects  for  which,  notwithstanding  their  lofty  language, 
they  in  reality  contended.  It  was  a  matter  of  essential  im- 
portance that  there  should  be  a  distinct  oblation ;  and  yet, 
after  all^  in  that  oblation  nothing  more  was  to  be  offered  than 
the  earthly  elements  of  bread  and  wine  !  Prayer  for  the  dead 
was  necessary,  because  it  was  primitive  \  but  at  the  same  time 
it  was  heterodox  to  believe  that  prayer  gave  consolation  to 
holy  sufferers  still  undergoing  the  temporal  punishment  of 
forgiven  sin !  The  consecration  could  not  take  place  with- 
out a  direct  invocation  of  the  Holy  Ghost;  yet,  after  the  con- 
secration, the  elements  remained  but  terrestrial  elements  still  I 
In  the  annals  of  self-delusion  there  is  perhaps  nothing  more 
singular  than  the  insensibility  of  the  Nonjurors  to  the  deep 
and  obvious  meaning  of  the  glorious  words  which  they  so  per- 
severingly  quoted  from  the  early  liturgies.     Take  as  an  illus- 


Archdeacon  Wllherforce  on  the  Holy  Eucharist.        67 

tration  of  this  blindness  one  of  Dr.  Brett's  quotations,  with 
his  comment  on  it : 

"  I  beheve,  I  beheve,  I  believe,  even  to  my  last  breath,"  says 
the  liturgy  of  St.  Basil,  "  that  it  is  the  very  life-giving  flesh  of  thy 
only-begotten  Son,  our  Lord  God,  Jesus  Christ.  He  received  it 
from  our  holy  Lady,  the  Motiier  of  God,  and  ever  Virgin  Mary," 
&c.  .  .  ^^  I  see  nothing  in  this  confession,''  is  the  commentary  of  Dr. 
Brett,  "  which  implies  the  bread  to  be  more  than  sacramentally  His 
Body,  or  that  the  Church  of  Alexandria  understood  any  thing  more 
by  it,  than  that  it  ivas  so  full  and  perfect  a  representative  of  His  Body, 
so  expressly  so  in  jwwer  and  effects,  that  it  became  them  to  declare 
and  believe  it." 

Such  is  the  elaborate  trifling  of  those  who  can  only  con- 
template great  truths  through  the  spectacles  of  prejudice  and 
literary  criticism;  and  who,  if  only  allowed  to  use  high-sound- 
ing words,  care  little  how  far  the  meaning  is  explained  away* 
That  the  word  *  transubstantiation'  had  not  become  the  formula, 
of  orthodoxy  in  the  early  Church,  was  sufficient  to  make  the 
Nonjurors  reject  the  doctrine  with  a  petulant  and  super- 
cilious  impatience,  and  with  expressions  which  proved  that 
they  had  never  taken  the  trouble  of  understanding  the  Ca- 
tholic doctrine  ;  nay,  that  they  confounded  it  with  that  mate- 
rialistic notion  of  the  Capharnaites  expressly  condemned  by 
the  Church.  Had  they  been  deep  as  well  as  learned  theolo- 
gians, they  would  have  inquired  whether  analogous  objections 
might  not  be  brought  against  such  terms  as  *  consubstantial,' 
*  Trinity,'  &c. ;  whether  in  all  such  cases  the  definition  is 
not  posterior  to  the  denial  that  occasioned  it;  and  whether, 
as  a  matter  of  fact,  the  word  'transubstantiation'  be  not  simply 
a  conclusive  mode  of  affirming  a  great  mystery  and  pre- 
serving it  from  evasion,  and  not,  as  is  superficially  alleged,  a 
curious  and  irreverent  way  of  explaining  it. 

The  work  before  us  is  one  which  suggests  the  hope  that 
the  nineteenth  century  has  nobler  destinies  before  it  than  the 
seventeenth  had.  With  much  to  hope,  however,  there  is  also 
much  to  fear,  when  persons  of  acknowledged  probity  and  ear- 
nestness find  it  so  difficult  to  face  the  most  obvious  facts,  and 
to  recognise  the  contrcidiction  between  their  principles  and 
the  actual  circumstances  that  surround  them.  Two  years 
ago  the  Church  of  England  rose  up  like  one  man  to  protest 
against  the  supremacy  of  that  See  to  which  it  owes  its  Chris- 
tianity, while  a  small  minority  only  was  found  to  protest 
against  a  decision  which  practically  annulled  an  article  of  the 
Creed ;  yet  that  Church  is  still  believed  by  many  to  be  the 
exact  counterpart  of  the  primitive  one  !  But  a  few  weeks 
ago    an   Anglican    bishop   was   rebuked   by   the  Evangelical 


68         Archdeaco7i  Wilberforce  on  the  Holy  Eucharist. 

Presb^^terians  of  Geneva  for  fraternising  with  the  Arians  of 
Geneva;  while,  just  at  the  same  time,  the  four  archbishops 
came  forward  in  defence  of  an  Anglican  bishop  at  Jeruscilem, 
a  living  bond  between  the  English  and  Prussian  establish- 
ments, who  boasts  that  he  makes  converts  both  from  the  Ca- 
tholic Church  and  from  the  Greek  communion !  Yet  men  of 
learning,  who  can  discern  the  slightest  variations  of  doctrine 
amid  the  rival  schools  of  antiquity,  find  it  difficult  to  ascer- 
tain whether  the  united  Church  of  England  and  Ireland  be  a 
Catholic  or  a  Protestant  body!  On  this  subject  the  book 
before  us  throws  some  lights.  Our  notice  of  it  would  be  in- 
complete if  we  made  no  allusion  to  its  suggestions. 

We  have  seen,  then,  what  is  the  Christian  faith  on  the 
subject  of  the  holy  Eucharist.  Is  the  true  faith  on  such  a 
subject  necessary,  or  not,  to  the  existence  of  a  church?  If 
not,  is  any  belief  on  any  subject  necessary  ?  Does  the  learned 
author  of  this  admirable  work  believe  that  there  is  any  one 
bishop  of  his  communion  whose  belief  on  this  awful  subject 
is  right;  whose  intention  it  is,  in  consecrating,  to  offer  his 
Lord,  and  who  adores  Him  so  offered  ?  Does  the  nation  be- 
lieve in  this  "  august  and  dreadful  sacrifice  ?"  Do  the  poor 
believe  in  it  ?     Do  the  rich  ?     Do  the  learned  ?     Do  the  un- 

'  learned?  There  exists,  we  know,  a  small  school  of  divines 
who  hold  these  doctrines,  or  doctrines  in  various  degrees 
approaching  to  these.  If  the  language  of  their  Church  in  its 
formularies ;  if  that  of  their  ecclesiastical  superiors ;  if  the 
belief  of  their  congregations,  the  "  paiq^eres  Christie' — stood 
as  opposed  to  their  own  on  the  subject  of  the  holy  Trinity  as 
it  stands  on  this  doctrine,  would  they  not  fly  in  horror  from 
the  infected  precincts,  and  reject  all  communion  with  heresy, 
even  as  did  the  Ambroses  and  Leos  whom  they  revere  ?  A 
belief,  ail-but  universal,  that  our  Blessed  Lord's  Body  and 
Blood,  Soul  and  Divinity,  are  but  a  piece  of  bread, — a  custom, 
ail-but  universal,  of  treating  it  as  a  piece  of  bread,  when,  on  one 
Sunday  out  of  four,  or  at  still  longer  intervals,  the  shadow  of 
the  ancient  sacrifice  passes  before  the  eyes  of  the  select  few 
who  remain,  not  for  the  sacrifice,  but  for  a  sacrament  sup- 
posed to  exist  without  a  sacrifice, — this  they  bear.  Yet  a 
belief  as  universal  in  Arianism  or  Sabellianism  they  could  not 
tolerate.  How  this  conduct  is  consistent  with  the  most  ordi- 
nary reverence  for  our  Blessed  Lord,  we  find  it  hard  to  un- 
derstand;  though  to  look  into  the  mysteries  of  the  human 
heart  is  a  thing  as  remote  from  our  desire  as  it  is  beyond  our 
power. 

Do  they  indeed  believe  that,  after  consecration,  the  bread 

becomes  the  Body  of  Christ,   bestowed  in  benediction  or  in 


Archdeacon  Wilberforce  on  the  Holy  Eucharist,         69 

judgment  ?  If  so,  do  they  give  that  Body  to  those  who  be- 
lieve the  contrary  ?  They  must  beUeve  eitlier  that  they  do 
this,  or  that  they  themselves  stand  debarred  from  Catholic 
communion.  Do  they  indeed  believe  that,  when  Mr.  Close 
or  Mr.  M'Neil,  after  a  sermon  which  denounces  the  primitive 
doctrine  of  the  holy  Eucharist  as  idolatrous,  having  just 
before  held  up  a  number  of  the  Achill  Herald,  illustrated  by 
a  print  of  the  "consecrated  wafer  and  of  a  Chinese  idol,"  with 
the  motto  "These  be  thy  gods,  O  Israel," — proceed  to  the 
communion-table  and  repeat  the  words  of  consecration,  they 
do  indeed  hold  in  their  hands  that  sacred  Body  which  they 
have  blasphemed ;  that  they  proceed  to  administer  It  to 
those  whom  they  have  taught  not  to  discern  It  —  a  teaching 
questioned  by  no  bishop  and  no  ecclesiastical  court  in  the 
kingdom  ? 

There  remains  behind  an  abyss  deeper  yet.  Is  that  too  to 
receive  the  passive  sanction  of  honourable  names  ?  Several  of 
the  bishops  of  the  united  Church  of  England  and  Ireland  belong- 
to  the  Society  for  Irish  Church  Missions.  The  missionaries 
of  this  society,  in  their  endeavour  to  overthrow  the  Catholic 
Church  in  Ireland,  use  as  their  lever  the  very  doctrine  which 
the  Archdeacon  professes,  and  which  they  hold  up  to  scorn. 
What  does  he  believe  to  be  the  condition  of  a  soul  which,  be- 
guiled by  their  sophistries,  or  lured  by  their  gifts,  or  alarmed 
by  the  threats  of  local  authorities  acting  in  concert  with 
them,  abandons  that  sacred  fold  made  yet  more  sacred  by  the 
visible  stigmata  impressed  on  it  by  ages  of  persecution,  and 
rails,  in  the  words  of  the  Soupers'  Catechism,  against  the  doc- 
trine of  the  Universal  Church  ?  The  Archdeacon  must  think 
as  a  Catholic  thinks  on  this  matter.  But  it  follows  from  this, 
that  the  doctrine  sanctioned  by  such  exalted  authorities  in 
his  Church  is  destructive  to  the  soul.  Is  the  Church  of  God, 
then,  the  destroyer  of  souls  ?  Can  any  one  who  realises  at 
once  the  doctrine  of  the  holy  Eucharist  and  his  own  position, 
and  who  realises  also  tlie  four  last  things  —  heaven,  hell, 
death,  and  judgment, —  that  judgment  in  which  the  veil  will 
be  withdrawn,  and  that  sacred  Body  and  Blood,  Soul  and 
Divinity,  which  have  condescended  to  dwell  among  us  here 
below,  shall  be  revealed ; — can  any  one,  we  say,  who  realises 
these  things,  remain  in  a  communion  actively  engaged  in  the 
destruction  of  souls  for  whom  Christ  died?* 

*  This  article  having  heen  already  too  long  delayed,  we  give  an  extra  sheet  in 
this  No.  to  secure  its  insertion.  The  work  reviewed  has  already  reached  its  se- 
cond edition. 


70 


DR.  MADDEN'S  SHRINES  AND  SEPULCHRES. 

The  Shrines  and  Sepulchres  of  the  Old  and  New  World.     By 
R.  R.  Madden,  M.R.I.A.     2  vols.    London,  Newby. 

The  records  of  his  mortality  have  ever  possessed  a  peculiar 
though  melancholy  charm  for  man.  From  the  earliest  ages, 
and  in  all  places,  men  have  been  unwilling  wholly  to  banish 
the  memorials  of  those  who  have  gone  before  them,  to  bury 
their  dead  out  of  sight.  Not  only  do  individuals  seek  to  re- 
tain, as  mementoes,  the  resting-places  of  those  who  were  dear 
to  them,  but  tribes  and  peoples  have  ever  been  equally 
anxious  to  retain  the  sepulchres  of  the  great  who  were  the 
leaders  of  their  nation  or  the  founders  of  their  race.  For  the 
Christian,  the  study  of  the  funeral  customs  of  various  countries 
possesses  a  peculiar  interest ;  for  in  those  of  the  early  pagan 
nations  he  can  trace  many  vestiges  of  primitive  tradition  and 
of  a  truth  not  yet  wholly  overlaid  by  the  errors  of  heathenism  ; 
whilst  in  those  which  prevail  wherever  Christianity  has  been 
introduced,  he  sees  the  effects  of  its  saving  teaching;  and  in 
the  uniformity  in  all  essential  details  of  the  funeral  rites  of 
every  Catholic  country  is  found  an  additional  proof  of  that 
unity  which  binds  together  the  children  of  the  one  universal 
Mother. 

In  the  work  before  us  Dr.  Madden  has  collected  an  im- 
mense mass  of  information,  partly  original,  partly  derived  from 
various  authorities,  relative  to  all  that  concerns  the  funeral 
rites  and  sepulchres  of  every  nation,  ancient  and  modern.  He 
does  not  treat,  however,  of  sepulchres  alone ;  but  wisely  con- 
sidering the  vestiges  of  ancient  cities  as  the  sepulchres  of 
nations,  and  ancient  shrines  as  not  merely  the  tombs  of  the 
mighty  dead  that  rest  therein,  but  as  testimonies  of  the  na- 
tions' trust  in  and  love  for  those  whom,  because  they  were  the 
beloved  of  God,  they  so  honoured, — he  has  devoted  a  large  por- 
tion of  his  work  to  an  account  of  Jerusalem  and  the  other  holy 
cities,  and  of  some  of  the  most  celebrated  shrines  of  Europe. 

For  the  compilation  of  such  a  work  Dr.  Madden  was,  in 
many  respects,  peculiarly  fitted.  Another  Weaver  in  his  love 
of  the  subject,  lie  combined  with  a  strong  memory  a  great  in- 
dustry of  research,  and  much  personal  knowledge  of  the  sub- 
jects he  undertook  to  treat  of;  for  he  had  been  a  pilgrim  in 
many  lands,  and  had  seen  many  of  the  scenes  the  description 
of  which  necessarily  entered  into  his  plan.  Moreover,  as  a 
Catholic,  he  had,  if  he  had  known  how  to  avail  himself  of  it, 
a  ^oint  d'wppui,  a  true  and    infallible  standard  whereby  to 


Dr.  Maddeiis  Shrines  and  Sepulchres.  71 

judge  and  measure  every  thing  that  came  before  him  ;  but  in 
this  point  of  view,  as  we  shall  presently  have  occasion  to  show, 
his  work  is  far  from  being  so  successful  as  it  might  have  been. 

The  first  nation  whose  modes  of  sepulchre  Dr.  Madden 
treats  of  is  naturally  tliat  of  the  Jews  ;  the  burial  of  Sara  by 
Abraham,  in  the  field  of  Mambre,  being  the  earliest  interment 
recorded.  Then  follow  the  tombs  of  the  ancient  Egyptians, 
and  an  account  of  the  sepulchres  of  nations — the  ruins  of 
Nineveh,  Babylon,  and  Persepolis ;  the  funeral  customs  of  the 
Hindoos  andCingalese,  of  the  ancient  Germans,  Gauls,  Britons, 
Scots,  and  Irish.  Here,  however,  the  great  fault  of  Dr.  Mad- 
den's  work  betrays  itself, — a  want  of  clearness,  order,  and  me- 
thod ;  a  fault  which  is  very  observable  also,  though  in  a  less 
degree,  in  his  later  and  more  valuable  work  on  the  Life  of  Sa- 
vonarola, which  was  reviewed  in  the  last  numbers  of  our  Maga- 
zine. From  his  opening  sentences  it  is  hard  to  gather  whether 
the  writer  agrees  in  the  usual  distinction  of  the  Gothic  and 
Celtic  races,  or  whetlier  he  confounds  them.  The  order  too, 
or  rather  the  want  of  order,  of  the  extracts  given,  greatly  tends 
to  confuse  this  question  of  races  in  the  mind  of  the  reader. 
Thus,  while  pages  315  to  o20  contain  an  account  of  the  man- 
ners and  customs  of  the  Gauls  of  France,  at  page  S2\  is  slipped 
in  an  account  of  the  Germans  from  Tacitus ;  whilst  at  the 
bottom  of  the  page  we  find  ourselves  suddenly  again  amongst 
the  French  Gauls,  and  at  page  S21  we  are  again  carried  back 
to  the  Germans.  Moreover,  the  extracts  are  unnecessaril3'' 
long  and  cumbrous.  The  hackneyed  quotations  from  Caesar, 
relative  to  the  manners  and  customs  of  the  Gauls,  have  nothing 
to  do  with  their  funeral  customs;  and  yet  they  are  not  only 
given  us  in  the  shape  of  a  direct  translation  from  Caesar,  but 
we  are  treated  to  a  re-hash  of  the  same  as  "  extracts  from  mo- 
dern writers  who  have  written  of  the  Gauls." 

l\\  chapters  19  and  20,  which  treat  of  the  funeral  monu- 
ments of  the  Scandinavians  and  Celtic  Irish,  by  far  the  most 
valuable  portions  are  the  lengthened  extracts  from  Worsaae's 
Danish  Antiquities  and  from  Dr.  Petrie's  work  on  those  of 
Ireland  ;  and  we  cannot  pass  them  by  without  making  one 
general  remark  on  a  point  in  which  we  think  Dr.  Madden 
leans  to  erroneous  inductions.     At  page  oo9  he  says : 

"It  is  indeed  impossible  to  read  the  latest  works  of  both  anti- 
quarians (Worsaae  and  Petrie)  without  coming  to  the  conclusion, 
that  the  type  of  our  earliest  rude  ponderous  unwrought  stones, 
monuments,  cromlechs,  cairnes  and  barrows  is  to  be  found  in  Scan- 
dniavian  remains.  There  is  an  identity  of  design,  use,  and  structure, 
in  the  monuments  of  both  countries,  yet  the  common  origin  of  them 
is  long  prior  to  the  date  of  the  incursions  of  the  Northmen  in  the 


72  Dr.  Madden's  Shrines  and  Sepulchres. 

eighth  and  ninth  centuries  into  Ireland  and  England.  They  are  the 
monuments  of  u  cognate  race,  of  an  early  age  anterior  to  Christianity. 
It  seems  impossible  to  compare  the  respective  accounts  of  these 
monuments  of  Ireland  and  Denmark,  by  Petrie  and  Worsaae,  without 
coming  to  the  conclusion,  that  instead  of  seeking,  as  our  old  anti- 
quarians have  done,  to  establish  a  separate  system  of  pagan  supersti- 
tion and  style  of  monumental  structures,  distinguishing  those  of  the 
Dane  from  those  of  the  Celt,  we  should  endeavour  to  ascertain  the 
degrees  of  relationship  between  Celts  and  Scandinavians  by  the 
analogies  we  find  in  the  monuments  and  the  uses  of  them  in  both 
countries;  and  thus,  in  all  probability,  they  would  be  traced  up  to 
one  common  origin." 

Now  what  we  wish  to  point  out  is,  the  fallaciousness  of  ar- 
guing as  to  identity  of  race  from  similarity  of  monuments. 
Races  widely  different,  but  of  a  common  though  distant 
origin,  and  who  have  similar  superstitions  and  have  attained  a 
similar  stage  of  civilisation,  will  erect  monuments  bearing  a 
general  resemblance :  but  it  is  now  acknowledged  by  all  scho- 
lars that  relationship  of  language  (and  that  not  merely  in 
similarity  of  words,  but  of  structure)  is  the  only  safe  test  of 
a  relationship  of  race.  Worsaae  himself  might  have  reminded 
Dr.  Madden  of  this. 

"  Antiquarian  remains  and  barrows,"  he  says,  "  would  convey 
much  more  trustworthy  information  of  the  past,  if  they  were  in  all 
cases  furnished  with  inscriptions.  From  the  languages  in  which 
such  inscriptions  were  composed,  we  should  then  be  able  to  form 
conclusions  as  to  the  descent  and  connection  of  the  earliest  inhabi- 
tants of  the  North  ;  since  it  is  sufficiently  clear  that  men  who  belong 
to  the  same  stock  speak  languages  which  are,  at  all  events,  allied  to 
each  other." 

But  to  Dr.  Madden's  novel  theory  that  the  Scandinavian 
Danes  and  the  Celtic  Irish  are  related,  Worsaae  affords  not 
the  f-lightest  countenance.  Remarking  on  the  similarity  be- 
tween the  Danish  monuments  of  what  he  calls  "the  stone 
period"  and  similar  monuments  on  the  coasts  of  the  whole  of 
the  West  of  Europe,  as  well  as  in  countries  which  were  cer- 
tainly inhabited  by  the  Celts  from  the  earliest  times,  he  points 
out  the  probability  of  an  early  Celtic  race  having  inhabited 
Denmark.  He  does  not,  however,  like  our  author,  confound 
these  with  the  Scanclinavian  Danes;  and,  on  the  contrary, 
after  remarking  that  "  there  are  geological  reasons  for  be- 
lieving that  the  bronze  period  must  have  prevailed  in  Den- 
mark live  or  six  hundred  years  before  the  birth  of  Christ,"  he 
continues : 

*'  The  inhabitants  of  Denmark  during  the  bronze  period  were  the 


Dr.  Maddeii^s  Shrines  and  Sepulchres,  73 

people  who  first  brought  with  them  a  peculiar  degree  of  civilisation. 
This  people  stood,  therefore,  in  the  same  degree  of  civilisation  as 
the  Celts,  and  exercised  as  important  an  influence  over  the  civilisa- 
tion of  the  North  as  the  Celts  over  that  of  the  West  of  Europe.  It 
cannot  possibly  be  imagined,  however,  that  the  inhabitants  of  Den- 
mark in  the  bronze  period  should  have  been  Celts.  If  they  also,  as 
late  as  the  sixth  and  seventh  centuries,  had  mixed  with  the  Scandi- 
navian people,  which  is  in  the  highest  degree  improbable,  we  should 
have  reason  to  expect  that  the  present  Danish  language  would  ex- 
hibit a  considerable  number  of  Celtic  words  and  expressions  not  to 
be  found  either  in  the  Swedish  or  in  the  Norwegian  language  ;  but 
this  is  very  far  from  being  the  case.  The  oldest  runic  inscriptions 
in  Denmark,  are  as  pure  Scandinavian  as  any  other  in  the  north." 

There  is  no  more  fertile  source  of  error  in  ethnographical 
investigations  than  this  habit  of  referring  similarity  of  rude 
structures  to  identity  of  race ;  and  we  are  surprised  that  Dr. 
Madden  should  not  have  been  on  his  guard  against  it.  From 
the  days  of  Jacob  downwards,  upright  stones  have  been  the 
monuments  of  rude  races  :  buildings  of  huge  unhewn  stones, 
or,  as  we  call  them,  cyclopean  structures,  are  to  be  found  from 
India  to  Ireland:  the  kraals  of  tlie  tribes  of  Africa  and  Aus- 
tralia, surrounded  with  their  trench  and  hedge,  bear  no  fanciful 
resemblance  to  the  villages  of  the  Anglo-Saxons  (which  an 
old  law  informs  us  were  to  be  surrounded  with  a  strong  thorn 
hedge,  round  which  two  bowmen  were  to  keep  watch  and 
ward),  or  to  what  must  have  been  the  state  of  our  own  raths. 

The  second  volume  of  this  work  is  by  far  the  most  inter- 
esting;  treating,  as  it  does,  mostly  of  Christian  monuments  of 
various  ages,  in  which  we  all  have  a  common  iiiterest.  At  the 
same  time  it  is  that  in  which  Dr.  Madden  has  acquitted  him- 
self the  least  to  our  satisfaction.  And  first,  we  would  notice 
some  of  the  observations  of  our  author,  with  regard  to  the 
Crusades,  and  to  the  knights  of  the  religious  orders.  We 
have  no  space  at  present  to  enter  into  a  lengthened  controversy 
on  the  subject;  and  indeed  our  chief  difficulty  is  clearly  to 
ascertain  Dr.  Madden's  opinions  on  these  subjects ;  for  there 
is  a  vaguer.ess  and  indirectness  in  his  language,  dealing  much 
more  in  exclamation,  interjection,  and  insinuation,  than  in 
positive  assertion,  wliich  renders  it  no  easy  task  to  meet  the 
charges  which  it  contains.  Without,  however,  wishing  to  take 
Dr.  Madden's  words  at  their  full  mieaning,  which  would  imply 
that  he  held  with  the  Peace-Society  all  warfare  to  be  unlawful, 
since  he  distinctly  adopts  the  dictum  of  St.  Peter  Damian, 
"Even  in  defence  of  the  faith  itself,  it  is  never  lawful  to  take 
up  arms,"*  it  is  clear  that  he  holds  the  Crusades  to  have  been 

*  This  is  what  Baronius  considered  as  of  heretical  tendency. 


74  Dr,  Maddens  Shrines  and  Sepulchres, 

wholly  unjustifiable,  and    the   pursuit   of  arms  inconsistent 
with  the  profession  of  the  Christian  religion. 

Now,  as  to  the  first,  we  shall  only  remark  that  the  crusaders 
were  not,  as  Dr.  Madden  represents  them,  "  Christians  battling 
with  all  who  liad  not  the  happiness  to  be  ranged  or  sheltered 
under  the  folds  of  the  banner  of  the  cross  ;"  but  men  who 
luidertook  to  avenge  insults  and  injuries  heaped  upon  their  fel- 
low-Christians, peaceable  pilgrims  and  travellers,  and  dwellers 
in  Palestine,  by  those  who  professed  to  be  at  peace  with  them  ; 
and  that  the  war  which  ensued  was  one  of  retaliation  and  self- 
defence.  Surely  it  is  impossible  to  evade  the  force  of  such 
facts  as  these,  mentioned  by  Dr.  Madden  himself,  and  all  be- 
longing to  a  period  prior  to  the  Crusades  ;  "  Gerbert,  after- 
wards Sylvester  the  Second,  on  his  return  from  the  Holy  Land, 
gave  a  doleful  account  of  the  oppressions  exercised  on  the 
Christian  inhabitants  there."  "  During  the  whole  of  the 
eleventh  century,  the  Christians  of  Syria  were  treated  with 
every  kind  of  indignity."  Nay,  the  very  vow  of  the  Templars 
points  to  this :  "  tliey  bound  themselves,  by  solemn  vow,  to 
defend  pilgrims  and  the  public  roads  from  robbers  and  men  of 
blood."  Embassies  and  remonstrances  had  proved  unavailing, 
and  at  length  the  wars  of  the  crusades  began. 

Unless,  then,  we  are  to  hold  that  Lord  Palmerston  is  not 
justified  in  remonstrating  against  injustice  done  to  British 
subjects  in  foreign  countries ;  unless  the  seizure  of  British 
subjects  and  their  goods  by  the  first  Consul  of  France  was 
not  a  lawful  cause  of  war  ;  unless  the  bombarding  of  Algiers,  in 
reprisal  for  the  attacks  of  iVlgerine  pirates,  was  a  massacre  ; 
the  Crusades  were  justified  by  every  principle  of  international 
law.  Nay,  it  happens  that  a  case  in  point  occurs  in  Europe 
at  this  minute.  All  the  diplomatists  and  publicists  of  Europe 
agree,  that  had  the  Sublime  Porte  oppressed  the  Greek  Chris- 
tians in  its  dominions,  the  Emperor  of  Russia  would  be  justi- 
fied in  interfering  for  their  protection  ;  and  the  case  of  Turkey 
was,  not  that  such  interference  would  be  unlawful,  but  that 
no  such  oppression  had  existed. 

As  to  the  second  point,  the  character  of  the  religious 
orders  of  knighthood,  Dr.  Madden  asks,  "  Was  it  not  impious 
to  invest  a  band  of  soldiers  with  a  sacerdotal  character — to 
send  forth  bands  of  Christians,  bound  by  monastic  rule  to  do 
works  of  mercy  and  piet}^  armed  with  deadly  weapons,  to 
battle  with  all  who  had  not  the  happiness  to  be  ranged  or 
sheltered  under  the  folds  of  the  banner  of  the  cross  ?"  (p.  193). 
The  fallacy  of  the  latter  part  of  this  sentence  we  have  already 
exposed  ;  the  first  part  is  simply  a  misstatement  of  facts.  The 
Templars  or  other  knights  were  not  properly  invested  with  any 


Dr.  Madden  s  Shrines  and  Sepulchres,  75 

sacerdotal  character  at  all.  They  were  knights  who  devoted 
themselves  to  serving  the  state,  in  "  defending  pilgrims  and 
the  public  roads  from  robbers  and  men  of  blood,"  and  in  its 
lawful  wars ;  and  who  at  the  same  time  bound  themselves  by 
vow  to  observe  the  evangelical  counsels.  Unless  all  v^'ar  be 
wholly  unlawful,  there  is  nothing  to  prevent  a  Christian  en- 
gaged in  it  from  seeking  to  save  his  soul  by  prayer  and  exer- 
cises of  piety.     Dr.  Madden,  indeed,  says  ironically, 

"  These  wamors  and  monastic  men  at  once  were  required  to  do  the 
fighting  work  of  the  state,  to  slay  and  expose  themselves  to  be  slain, 
to  spend  no  small  portion  of  their  lives  in  camps,  trenches,  strong- 
holds ;  in  fighting,  destroying,  mutilating,  and  massacring  heathens 
by  sea  and  land  ;  and  at  the  same  time  were  expected  to  be  meek, 
humble,  charitable,  devout,  contemners  of  the  world,  despisers  of 
riches,  faithful  to  their  monastic  vows,  strict  observers  of  that  rule 
of  theirs  that  was  analogous  to  St.  Augustine's." 

Does  Dr.  Madden  mean  to  say  that  all  soldiers  are  neces- 
sarily heathens,  or  worse  ?  that  a  Christian  cannot  fight  for 
his  country,  and  save  his  soul  ?  does  he  mean  to  condemn 
those  Catholic  soldiers,  who  in  all  ages — ay,  and  now  in  our 
own  armies — mindful  of  the  uncertainty  of  life,  prepare  them- 
selves for  the  struggle  by  prayer  and  the  holy  sacraments  ? 
If  not,  his  words  are  idle  and  devoid  of  meaning.  Soldiers 
there  must  be ;  and  it  is  well  that,  as  they  are  exposed  to 
more  dangers  than  other  men,  they  should  be  even  better  pre- 
pared than  others  are,  by  exercises  of  piety  and  the  sacraments, 
for  their  latter  end.  Elsewhere,  Dr.  Madden  sneers  at  the 
idea  of  men  in  camps  observing  a  vow  of  chastity :  this  is  a 
subject  which,  to  the  Protestant  and  the  unbeliever,  is  indeed 
foolishness  and  a  derision,  but  which  it  is  most  painful  to  hear 
spoken  of  in  such  a  tone  by  any  Catholic.  Men  in  camps, 
whether  bound  by  vow  or  not,  cannot  live  as  married  men: 
does  Dr.  Madden  then  imagine  that  all  Catholic  soldiers  and 
officers  throughout  the  world  live  in  sin  ?  Let  him  inquire  of 
those  who  know,  and  they  will  tell  him  that  to  hundreds,  even 
in  our  own  army,  this  enforced  continency,  rightly  observed, 
is  a  source  of  great  merit.  As  to  his  other  charges  against 
the  knights,  they  are  little  more  than  branches  of  the  above. 
He  says,  indeed,  that  the  riches  of  the  order  was  unquestion- 
ably a  crime,  in  the  case  of  religious  men  under  vows  of  ])o- 
verty.  But  their  votv  obliged  them  to  personal  poverty,  not 
to  refuse  riches  given  for  the  support  of  the  order;  and  although 
a  breach  of  their  vow  would  unquestionably  have  been  a  crime, 
an  infringement  of  Dr.  Madden's  ideas  of  propriety  can  hardly 
amount  to  one.  In  like  manner,  he  repeats  three  times  a 
mistranslation  of  a  panegyric  on  them  by  Jacob  de  Vitriaco, 


76  Br,  Madden' s  Shrines  and  Sepulchres. 

in  order  to  enforce  the  bad  character  which  he  is  anxious  to 
affix  to  them.  That  writer  had  contrasted  their  gentleness 
and  piety  in  peace  with  their  valour  in  war ;  and  described 
them  as  "  leones  in  hello,  milites  experti,  inimicis  Christi  duri 
et  feroces.''  This  last  word,  in  order  to  point  a  period,  Dr. 
Madden  translates  *^  ferocious.''  As  well  might  he  translate 
Horace's  celebrated  panegyric  on  Cato,  "  lyrcBter  atrocem  ani- 
onum  Catojiis"  "  save  the  atrocious  mind  of  Cato."  Indeed 
this  desire  to  round  a  period,  or  cap  an  antithesis,  sometimes 
carries  Dr.  Madden  rather  further  than  he  can  have  intended  ; 
for  instance,  he  winds  up  with  the  following  passage : 

"Will  the  day  ever  come  when  some  great  Christian  man,  uniting 
the  qualities  of  Pascal,  Savonarola,  Columbanus,  and  St.  Ambrose, 
shall  rise  up  against  the  impiety  of  making  the  divine  doctrine  of 
our  Saviour,  which  He  laid  down  for  all  times  and  for  all  men,  a 
plastic  code,  to  be  modified  from  time  to  time,  to  be  adapted  to  the 
times,  the  prevailing  tastes  and  leanings  of  society,  at  one  period  to 
romantic,  at  another  time  to  warlike  pursuits,  and  at  another  to 
mere  material  interests  ?  When  shall  it  be  boldly  proclaimed,  there 
is  but  one  gospel  for  rich  and  poor,  for  the  people  of  the  first  and 
nineteenth  century,  for  every  phase  of  society,  for  the  learned  and 
the  illiterate,  for  the  great  cities  that  are  the  centres  of  existing  civi- 
lisation, and  the  humble  towns  that  were  of  old  in  Galilee,  to  whose 
people  the  word  of  eternal  life  were  spoken  by  our  Lord  ?" 

It  would  appear  from  this,  that  the  gospel  which  our  Lord 
came  to  plant  on  earth  has  never  yet  been  preached  to  man ; 
and  that,  as  His  spouse  to  whom  it  was  committed  has  neglected 
lier  charge,  we  must  wait  for  the  doctrine  of  Christ  until  a 
man  shall  arise,  combining  the  spirit  of  some  of  God's  saints 
together  with  a  strong  flavour  of  heresy,  to  preach  that  truth 
to  which  the  Church  of  Christ  has  been  unfaithful. 

Our  readers  will  gather  from  the  preceding  remarks  that 
there  is  much  valuable  and  interesting  information  in  the 
volumes  before  us,  which  will  w-ell  repay  perusal;  but  that 
there  are  many  remarks  interspersed  which  a  Catholic  cannot 
read  without  deep  pain, — pain  all  the  more  keenly  felt,  because 
the  remarks  which  occasion  it  proceed  from  a  Catholic  pen. 
In  addition  to  the  passages  of  this  character  that  have  been 
already  quoted,  we  would  add  the  following,  referring  to  the 
well-known  author  of  Tancredus: — "  Carnage  and  devastation 
in  any  age,  with  all  due  deference  to  the  descendant  of  Sir 
Kenelm  Digby,  are  not  the  ways  of  showing  that  the  Sa- 
viour of  the  world  is  dear  to  us."  Here  a  most  atrocious 
charge  is  insinuated  against  Mr.  Digby ;  namely,  that  he 
holds  that  carnage  and  devastation  are  the  ways  of  showing 
the  Saviour  to  be  dear  to  us ;  a  charge  from  which  we  are  sure 


Dr.  Madden'' s  Shrines  and  Sepulchres.  77 

Dr.  Madden  is  too  chivalrous  to  shrink,  on  the  pretext  of  an 
attorney  in  an  action  for  libel,  that  it  is  not  formally  stated. 
And  what  foundation  is  tliere  for  the  charge  ?  In  the  very 
passage  he  himself  quotes,  Mr.  Digby,  in  referring  to  the 
storming  of  Jerusalem,  says,  "  humanity  shudders  at  such 
scenes."  But  the  charge  against  the  illustrious  author  of 
Mores  CathoUci  and  Compitum  is  only  the  vehicle  of  a  similar 
charge  against  the  crusaders ;  and  we  believe  that  it  is  as  well 
deserved  in  the  one  case  as  in  the  other.  That  many  of  the 
crusaders  were  guilty  of  acts  of  cruelty,  we  may  admit;  that 
any,  much  less  all,  deemed  such  atrocities  the  best  way  of 
showing  that  the  Saviour  was  dear  to  them,  we  do  not  believe  ; 
and  Dr.  Madden  has  not  produced  a  single  authority  to  prove  it. 
But  this  is  only  a  specimen  of  that  temper  which  runs 
more  or  less  throughout  the  whole  book,  that  pseudo-liberality 
of  certain  Catholics  which  consists  in  being  zealous  to  find 
fault  and  ready  to  condemn  any  thing  or  person  that  is  Ca- 
tholic, whilst  the  gravest  faults  of  others  meet  with  scarcely  a 
word  of  blame.  True  impartiality  does  not  consist  in  always 
taking  part  against  those  of  one's  own  religion  or  country; 
but  in  holding  an  even  balance,  and  weighing  the  merits  and 
demerits  of  all  in  the  same  scales.  We  are  willing  to  believe 
the  passage  in  which  Dr.  M.  speaks  of  "  the  superstitions  that 
are  practised  by  the  priests  of  the  several  persuasions"  in 
Jerusalem  (words  which,  taken  strictly,  include  of  course 
those  of  his  own  religion),  to  be  only  a  slip  of  the  pen ;  but 
in  the  appendix  to  the  first  volume  he  repeats  without  a  re- 
mark the  ignorant  calumny  of  Sandys  on  the  Maronite  Ca- 
tholics ;  a  fault  the  more  inexcusable,  as  attention  has  so 
lately  been  drawn  to  the  subject  by  the  persecution  of  the 
Druses  and  the  writings  of  various  Catholic  missionaries  from 
Mount  Libanus.*  He  is  eloquent  on  the  pride,  covetousness, 
lust  of  land  and  gold,  love  of  power,  hardness  of  heart,  cruelty 
and  intolerance  which  the  possession  of  wealth  engenders  in 
churchmen  ;  but  when  he  narrates  how  the  church  of  St. 
Genevieve  of  Paris  (the  Pantheon)  "  was  converted  into  a 
temple  dedicated  to  glory,  and  a  place  of  burial  for  the  re- 
mains of  great  men,"  he  has  not  a  word  of  blame.  In  like 
manner,  he  is  eloquently  indignant  in  speaking  of  the  tomb  of 
Cardinal  Richelieu.  He  says,  "  the  inscription  on  this  monu- 
ment is  one  of  the  most  nauseous  displays  of  mortuary  lauda- 
tion, the  most  revolting  exhibition  of  perverted  notions  of 
Christian  morals,  the  most  erroneous  ideas  of  the  requisites  for 
the  sacerdotal  office,  and  the  qualities  that  are  essential  to 
Christian  heroism,  that  are  perhaps  to  be  found  in  any  epitaph 
•  See  the  recent  volumes  of  Annals  of  the  Faith, 


78  Dr.  Maddeiis  Shrines  and  Sepulchres. 

tlirou^ii^liout  Christendom."     Grave  cliarges  truly  ;  and  so  our 
author  evidently  feels,  and  he  proceeds  to  prove  them  by  quota- 
tions from  this  dreadful  epitaph.     The  '^  na"^seous  flattery"  is 
proved  by  the  fact,  that  *'  the  enumeration  of  his  titles  of  honour 
is  a  task  tiiat  wearies  the  mind ; "  the  perverted  notions  of  Chris- 
tian morals  and  of  the  requisites  for  the  Soicerdotal  office,  and 
qualities  of  Christian  heroism,  are  proved  by  the  epitaph  telling 
the  reader  that  the  Cardinal  was  ^^  grand  en  Jiaissance,  graiid 
en  esprit,  grand  en  sagesse,  grand  en  science,  grand  en  courage, 
(jrand   en  fortune,  mais  plus  grand  en  piete/^  by  its  telling 
forth  *'  the  glory  of  his  works  of  piety  for  instruction.  Chris- 
tian  perfection,  and  the  conversions  of  heretics,   which  sur- 
passed the  glory  of  his  conquests;"  and  that  "he  came  to  the 
end  of  his  career  with  joy,  because  he  saw  the  crowns  that  are 
immortal."     Why,  if  the  Cardinal  deserves  not  all  the  praises 
of  his  panegyrist,  it  seems  to  us,  that  at  least  they  hardly  prove 
that  he  had  not  a  correct  idea  of  what  the  object  of  his  praises 
ought  to  have  been.     Dr.  Madden,  however,  is  determined  to 
demolish  the  character   not  only  of  his  panerryrist,  but  of  the 
Cardinal,  and  he  does  it  by  one  touch.     *' The  great  piety," 
he  says  ironically,   "  of  a  priest-politician,  who  expended  in 
pompous  works  more  than  ten  millions,  says  the  Abbe  Richard, 
and  *  plus  de  dix  millions,'  he  adds,  in  embellishing  the  castle 
of  Richelieu !"     He  forgets,   however,    to  tell    us    that  what 
he  designates    *'  pompous    works"   comprised    the    foundation 
of  such  institutions  as   hospitals  and   schools.     Whilst,    how- 
ever, the  extravagance  of  Cardinal  Richelieu  excites  his  un- 
measured indignation,  he  is  equally  unbounded  in  his  admira- 
tion   of  the  cynical  Pascal,  whom  he  designates  "  the  most 
profound    thinker  of  any  age  since  divine  inspiration  ceased 
to  be  manifested;"    and   his  tomb   he  calls    *' the   venerable 
shrine    of   a  gifted    being   of    exalted   intelligence."     After 
this,  we  are  not  surprised  that  he  unhesitatingly  pronounces 
that  the  author  of  T'om  Jones  went  straight  to  heaven  ;  and 
that  whilst  loading  his   pages  with  a   fulsome  panegyric  on 
Cosmo  de'  Medici,  the  destro3'er  at  once  of  the  liberty  and  the 
morals  of  his  country,  he  has  not   a  word  of  praise  for  the 
great   St.  Charles  Borromeo,  the   upholder  of  the  poor  and 
oppressed,    and  the  terror  of  the  licentious   and   tyrannical 
nobles  of  his  native  land. 

Moreover,  there  are  some  passages  with  which  yet  graver 
fault  may  be  found :  we  mean  those  in  wliich  Catholic  doc- 
trines are,  at  least  impliedly,  misstated.  Thus,  in  one  place, 
(vol.  ii.  p.  105),  he  says,  "  there  can  be  no  question  that  mur- 
ders and  depredations  of  great  atrocity  were  sometimes  com- 
pounded for  by  a  journey  to  Jerusalem."     And  in  another, 


Dr,  Maddens  Shrines  and  Sepulchres,  79 

speaking  of  certain  alleged  Spanish  miracles,  he  says,  "  many 
of  the  accounts  of  them,  it  would  be  an  oifence  against  truth 
not  to  acknowledge  are  replete  with  puerilities,  which  all 
educated  Roman  Catholics  must  deem  it  would  be  no  part  of 
their  faith  to  give  credence  to."  The  belief  of  the  Church, 
and  therefore  of  all  Catholics,  educated  or  uneducated,  is,  that 
it  is  no  part  of  the  faith  to  believe  in  any  miracles  save  those 
recorded  in  the  holy  Scriptures;  and  therefore  the  implied 
distinction  of  Dr.  Madden  between  the  faith  of  himself  and 
other  "  educated,"  or  in  the  usual  cant,  *^  enlightened"  Catho- 
lics, and  their  poorer  and  more  blessed  brethren  in  the  Church, 
is  unnecessary  and  unfounded.  In  the  appendix,  in  reference 
to  the  alleged  miracles  of  the  Deacon  Paris,  there  is  a  sentence 
which  would  appear  to  lead  to  a  conclusion,  which  we  are  sure 
Dr.  Madden  cannot  have  intended  ;  namely,  that  God  works 
miracles  indifferently  through  the  agency  of  benevolent  men 
without  regard  to  their  belief;  forgetting  that  our  Lord  Him- 
self appealed  to  miracles  as  the  proof  of  the  truth  of  doctrine, 
and  said,  "  The  signs  that  I  do,  those  that  believe  in  Me  shall 
do,  and  greater  signs  also." 

But  perhaps  the  most  extraordinary  and  most  painful 
passage  of  all  that  we  have  met  with,  is  one  in  which,  speaking 
of  St.  Teresa,  our  author  suggests  that  the  state  of  spiritual 
dryness  and  desolation  sometimes  experienced  by  holy  per- 
sons may  be  explained,  not  by  the  effect  of  the  grace  of  God 
upon  the  soul,  but  *'by  the  phenomena  of  animal  magnetism. '* 
We  cannot  trust  ourselves  to  speak  of  a  theory  which  would 
make  the  love  of  God  and  horror  of  sin  depend  upon  the  mag- 
netic state  of  our  bodies,  which  would  teach  us  to  seek  con- 
trition and  repentance  not  in  prayer,  but' in  electro-biology; 
and  would  interpret  the  inspired  words  of  the  Psalmist,  "  De- 
reliquit  me  virtus  mea ;  spiritus  meus  conturhatus  est  intra 
me;  anima  mea  sicut  terra  sine  aqua  tibi,**  as  referring  to  pe- 
culiar conditions  of  the  magnetic  state.  Such  errors  as  these 
we  trust  Dr.  Madden  will  remedy  in  future  editions;  and 
when  doing  so,  he  may  correct  also  an  historical  mistake  into 
which  he  has  fallen  at  p.  565,  in  which  he  speaks  of  the 
"strange  notions  of  piety  and  liberality  of  the  ninth  century, 
when  kings  made  presents  to  churches  of  men  and  women." 
He  seems  not  to  know  that  these  were  slaves  who  were  thus 
emancipated ;  and  yet,  without  referring  to  any  other  autho- 
rity, he  himself  mentions  a  Spanish  writer  who  alludes  to  this, 
and  the  instances  he  quotes  prove  it,  as  they  include  dona- 
tions of  priests  and  deacons;  and  the  canons  of  the  Church  had 
at  all  times  strictly  prohibited  the  retaining  of  clerics  as  slaves 
by  any  body,  much  less  by  Churches.    He  may  correct,  too,  the 

VOL.  I. NEW  SERIES.  G 


80  Tlie  Wandering  Jew, 

passage  in  whicli,  speaking  of  the  holy  house  of  Loretto,  he 
says,  '*it  still  attracts  occasionally  the  piety  or  curiosity  of  a 
few  persons."  We  can  assure  him,  from  our  own  knowledge, 
that  the  shrine  is  frequented  at  the  present  day  by  thousands 
of  pilgrims  of  all  classes. 

Were  these  corrections  made,  and  some  useful  condensa- 
tion practised,  the  work  might  appear  in  a  second  edition  in 
one  volume  ;  if  not  auctior^  yet  certainly  emendatior,  and 
might  then  be  safely  recommended  to  the  Catholic  public  as  a 
valuable  collection  of  interesting  and  instructive  reading. 


THE  WANDERING  JEW. 


Chronicles  selected  from  the  Originals  of  Cartaphilus,  the  Wan- 
dering Jew.  Embracing  a  period  of  Nineteen  Centuries, 
Now  first  revealed  to,  and  edited  by  David  Hoffman, 
Hon.  J.  U.  D.  of  Gottengen,  author  of  some  Legal  and 
Miscellaneous  Works.     London  :  Bosworth. 

There  is  something  refreshing  in  the  thought  of  a  man  who 
could  write  a  book  like  this.  It  tranquillises  the  spirits  to 
reflect  on  the  mental  condition  of  the  author,  who,  in  this  age 
of  rapid  restlessness,  could  deliberately  produce  a  work  of 
historical  fiction,  or  fictitious  history,  or  whatever  David 
Hoff'man's  lucubrations  are  to  be  called,  in  six  thick  large 
closely-printed  volumes. 

When  the  world  travels  at  the  rate  of  a  mile  in  a  minute, 
and  booksellers'  shops  and  stalls  swarm  with  railway  libraries, 
and  reading  for  the  rail,  and  traveller's  libraries  ;  and  old  gen- 
tlemen expect  to  find  in  the  three  articles  of  a  daily  paper 
a  "  view"  of  all  things  divine  and  human,  for  imbibing  in  con- 
junction with  their  matutinal  tea  and  toast, — the  calmness, 
the  coolness,  the  methodical  preparation,  the  patient  toil  with 
which  these  goodly  tomes  must  have  been  elaborated,  is  some- 
thing bearing  the  aspect  of  a  phenomenon  verging  almost  ou 
the  unique.  True  it  is,  that  of  the  six  volumes  promised  but 
two  have  yet  come  forth  from  the  printing-press ;  but  we 
doubt  not  that  the  others  are  on  their  way,  and  that  the 
steady  pen  which  has  traced  the  substantial  though  somewhat 
dreamy  pages  before  us,  has  already  advanced  far  to  the  con- 
clusion of  its  labours. 

The  plan  of  recalling  the  histories  of  the  past  in  con- 
nection with  the  experiences  of  some  imaginary  personage, 


The  Wandering  Jew,  81 

has  been  a  fcivourite  idea  with  some  writers.  The  travels  of 
Anacharsis  are,  perhaps,  the  best  known  and  the  most  suc- 
cessful of  the  attempts  which  have  been  made  thus  to  ilhis- 
trate  and  popularise  the  information  conveyed  in  professed 
chronicles  and  venerable  documents.  For  Mr.  Hoffman's 
purpose,  however,  no  Anacharsis  or  other  ordinary  type  of 
humanity  could  serve.  His  wish  has  been  to  paint  the  his- 
torical and  social  life  of  eighteen  centuries,  as  it  v/ould  strike 
a  living  eye-witness  or  ear-witness.  Fortunately  for  him  a 
legend  has  furnished  a  machinery  which  no  commonplace 
history  could  have  supplied,  or  ordinary  imagination  have  in- 
vented. The  Wandering  Jeiv  was  the  very  man  for  his  pur- 
pose. 

Here,  then,  we  have  the  well-known  mysterious  person- 
age but  lately  employed  by  the  French  novelist  Eugene  Sue 
for  the  worst  purpose,  resuscitated  for  an  aim  which  none 
but  a  German,  or  one  of  German  extraction,  could  have  con- 
templated, transformed  into  a  philosophical,  well-disposed, 
and  finally  converted  Christian ;  discoursing  at  large  on 
every  thing  that  has  happened  in  the  civilised  world  for 
eighteen  hundred  years,  or  more — for  we  shrewdly  suspect 
that  the  said  Jew  will  wind  up  his  discourses  with  'd  finale  on 
the  papal  aggression,  Cardinal  Wiseman,  the  Madiai,  and 
Miss  Cuninghame. 

The  legend  itself  is  probably  little  known  in  its  details 
to  many  of  our  readers ;  and  we  shall  therefore,  before  cri- 
ticising our  author's  performance,  place  before  them  the 
outline  of  the  singular  tradition  as  it  has  reached  the  present 
age. 

The  first  explicit  mention  of  the  Jew  occurs  in  the  writ- 
ings of  Roger  of  Wendover,  and  of  Matthew  Paris,  who 
both  lived  in  the  thirteenth  century.  From  the  former  of 
these  authors,  as  confirmed  by  the  latter,  it  appears  that  in 
the  year  1228, 

"  A  great  convocation  of  bishops  and  of  other  church  dignitaries 
had  assembled  at  St.  Albans  ;  among  whom  was  an  archbishop  of 
Armenia  Major,  who  had  come  to  England  upon  a  pilgrimage  to  the 
relics  lately  deposited  there  by  the  crusaders.  The  conversation, 
after  a  time,  happened  to  turn  upon  the  subject  of  that  famed 
Wanderer  of  Ages,  then  named  '  Josephus' — the  faith  that  might  be 
placed  in  the  long-known  tradition — and  as  to  the  cause  of  his  ter- 
rific curse.  In  the  course  of  that  interesting  inquiry,  the  archbishop, 
through  his  interpreter,  a  knight,  was  asked  whether  'he  had  ever 
seen  or  heard  of  that  man,  of  whom  there  was  much  talk  in  the 
world,  and  who  is  still  alive,  and  who,  when  our  Lord  suffered,  was 
present  and  spoke  to  Him.'     In  reply,  the  knight  stated,  that  '  his 


82  Tlie  Wandering  Jew, 

lord,  the  archbishop,  well  knows  that  man ;  and  shortly  before  his 
lord  had  taken  his  way  towards  the  western  countries,  the  said 
Josephus  had  ate  at  his  table  in  Armenia,  and  that  he  had  often 
seen  and  held  converse  with  him.  On  being  further  interrogated, 
the  knight  stated  for  his  lord,  that,  at  the  time  of  the  suffering  of 
Jesus  Christ,  and  when  seized  by  the  Jews  and  carried  into  the 
hall  of  judgment  before  Pontius  Pilate — that  governor  finding  no 
fault  with  him,  nevertheless  said,  '  Take  ye  him  and  judge  him 
according  to  thy  law' — whereupon  the  shouts  of  the  Jews  increased, 
and  he  released  unto  them  Barabbas,  and  delivered  Jesus  to  them  to 
be  crucified.  When,  therefore,  the  Jews  were  dragging  Jesus  forth, 
and  had  reached  the  door,  Cartaphilus,  then  a  porter  of  the  hall  in 
Pilate's  service,  impiously  struck  the  Saviour  on  his  back  with  his 
hand,  and  said  in  mockery,  '  Go  faster^  Jesus,  go  faster;  ivhy  dost  thou 
linger?'  And  Jesus  looking  back  upon  him  with  a  severe  coun- 
tenance, said  to  him,*  /  am  ffoing,  and  thou  wilt  wait  till  I  return* 
According  as  our  Lord  said,  this  Cartaphilus  (now  called  Josephus) 
is  still  awaiting  his  return !  At  the  time  of  our  Lord's  suffering, 
Cartaphilus  was  thirty  years  old;  and  when  he  attains  the  age  of  a 
hundred  years,  he  always  returns  to  the  same  age  as  he  was  at  that 
time!  After  Christ's  death,  and  when  the  Catholic  faith  gained 
ground,  this  Cartaphilus  was  baptised  by  that  Ananias  who  baptised 
the  Apostle  Paul,  and  then  took  the  name  of  Josephus.  He  often 
dwells  in  both  divisions  of  Armenia,  and  in  other  oriental  lands,  pass- 
ing his  time  amidst  the  bishops  and  other  prelates  of  the  church  :  he 
is  a  man  of  holy  conversation — of  few  words,  and  circumspect  in  his 
demeanour,  for  he  does  not  speak  at  all,  unless  when  questioned  by 
the  bishops  and  religious  men  ;  and  then  he  tells  of  ihe  events  of  old 
times,  and  of  those  which  occurred  at  the  suffering  and  resurrection 
of  our  Lord,  and  of  the  witnesses  of  the  resurrection,  namely,  those 
who  arose  with  Christ,  and  went  into  the  holy  city,  and  appeared  unto 
men  :  he  also  tells  of  the  creed  of  the  Apostles,  and  of  their  separation 
and  preaching, — and  all  this  he  relates  without  smiling  or  levity  of 
conversation — as  one  who  is  well  practised  in  sorrow  and  the  fear  of 
God,  always  looking  forward  with  fear  to  the  coming  of  Jesus 
Christ,  lest  at  the  last  judgment  he  should  find  him  in  anger,  whom, 
when  on  his  way  to  death,  he  had  provoked  to  just  vengeance. 
Numbers  come  to  him  from  different  parts  of  the  world,  enjoying 
his  society  and  conversation;  and  to  them,  if  they  are  men  of  autho- 
rity, he  explains  all  doubts  on  the  matters  whereon  he  is  questioned. 
He  refuses  all  gifts  that  are  offered  to  him,  being  content  with 
slight  food  and  clothing.  He  places  his  hope  of  salvation  on  the 
fact  that  he  sinned  through  ignorance ;  for  the  Lord  when  suffering 
prayed  for  his  enemies  in  these  words — '  Father,  forgive  them  ;  for 
they  know  not  what  they  do.'  " 

In  the  following  century  the  "Wanderer  again  appears 
under  the  name  of  Isaac  Lakedion.  Two  hundred  years  later 
he  once  more  revives  in  the  pages  of  historical  romance,  and 


The  Wandering  Jew,  83 

this  time  as  Cartaphilus,  and  he  is  reported  to  have  favoured 
the  renowned  alchemist,  Cornelius  Agrippa,  with  a  long  inter- 
view. By  and  by,  on  Easter-day  1542,  as  legends  tell,  the  Jew, 
now  bearing  the  name  of  Ahasuerus,  was  seen  by  two  German 
students  listening  attentively  to  a  sermon  at  Hamburg.  He 
conversed  with  them,  and  told  them  that  before  the  cruci- 
fixion he  had  been  a  thriving  shoemaker.  Afterwards  he  is 
seen  at  Strasburg  and  in  Brabant.  In  1604,  it  is  reported 
that  he  was  seen  coming  from  mass  at  Beauvais.  So,  too,  he 
was  seen  almost  all  over  Europe  from  time  to  time.  At 
Naples  he  was  reported  to  be  a  gambler ;  at  Brussels  he  sat 
for  his  portrait;  and  lastly.  Brand,  the  antiquarian,  tells  that 
as  late  as  the  year  1760,  a  certain  singular  Israelite,  travelling 
in  Scotland,  was  by  some  accounted  to  be  the  Wandering 
Jew.  Of  the  various  characters  attached  to  these  traditions, 
]\Ir.  Hoffman  says : 

"It  may  here  be  remarked  as  an  interesting  characteristic  fact, 
that  whilst  the  Germans  and  French  have  always  spoken  of  the 
*  Wandering  Jew'  kindly,  and  as  meritorious,  at  this  time,  of  our 
sympathy,  and  even  of  our  deep  compassion,  the  Spaniards,  on  the 
contrary,  in  all  their  legends  respecting  him,  have  ever  regarded 
him  with  unmingled  detestation,  and  as  an  object  to  be  hunted  and 
cruelly  persecuted.  Whether  our  unhappy  Jew  appeared  as  Carta- 
philus, as  Ahasuerus,  Josephus,  or  as  Isaac  Lakedion,  he  is  always 
represented  in  other  countries  as  philosophic,  dignified,  and  learned 
— not  as  invariably  poor— and  always  as  kind  and  well-bred.  He 
is  generally  described  as  aged  and  care-worn — as  often  having  an 
immense  white  beard  grizzled  hair — rather  tattered  garments — and 
as  being  no  litde  fond  of  crude  traces  of  oriental  finery. 

"  We  sometimes  find  our  Jew  represented  as  a  scholastic  cobbler; 
in  which  case  he  is  said  to  have  worn  a  leathern  apron ;  and,  indeed, 
it  may  be  invariably  said  that  the  legend  (brief  as  are  its  chronicles) 
takes  its  peculiar  features  and  colouring,  in  a  large  degree,  from  the 
■character  of  the  people  themselves,  or  of  the  age  in  which  he  hap- 
pens to  be  noticed.  In  Spain,  for  example,  he  is  said  to  have  been 
often  seen  with  an  awful  stigma  upon  his  forehead, — which  consisted 
of  a  flaming  crucifix — consuming  his  brain  for  ever;  but  which 
continued  to  grow  just  as  fast  as  it  was  dms  consumed ;  and  hence 
occasioned  him  unceasing  agony — a  fable  in  just  harmony  with  divers 
other  fearful  things  in  that  country,  which  are  not  legendary." 

It  is  obvious,  that  in  competent  hands  the  adoption  of  this 
marvellous  story,  as  the  groundwork  of  a  long  series  of  semi- 
historical  sketches,  might  be  made  the  vehicle  of  a  vast 
amount  of  entertainment  and  instruction.  No  ordinary  qua- 
lifications, indeed,  would  be  sufficient.  The  mere  amount  of 
reading  necessary  in  a  writer  who  would  describe  eighteen 
centuries  can  be  no  trifle.     Besides  this,  such  an  author  ought 


84  The  Wandering  Jew, 

to  possess  a  considerable  amount  of  the  faculty  of  discrimina- 
tion, if  he  would  not  weary  his  readers  with  a  tedious  mul- 
tiplicity of  details.  What  he  selected,  moreover,  he  must 
have  the  gift  of  presenting  in  a  living,  natural,  and  agreeable 
form.  Add  to  this,  that  the  Jew  himself  must  be  endowed 
with  some  sort  of  definite  character,  and  not  drag  on  his  fated 
existence  as  a  mere  animated  Annual  Register ;  and  it  is  plain 
that  Mr.  Hoffman  has  essayed  a  task  of  no  little  difficulty. 

To  say  that  he  has  accomplished  it  with  perfect  success,  is 
more  than  truth  warrants.  At  the  same  time,  he  has  suc- 
ceeded in  producing  a  very  curious,  learned,  instructive,  and, 
for  the  most  part,  readable  book,  so  far  as  it  is  yet  put  forth. 
Its  great  blot  is  its  occasional  controversial  character.  There 
was  not  the  smallest  necessity  for  adopting  any  side  in  relat- 
ing the  events  of  the  first  few  centuries  of  the  Christian  era. 
If  Mr.  Hofliuan  had  wished  it,  he  might  have  simply  re- 
peated what  old  books  tell,  and  spared  us  his  own  interpreta- 
tion. But  to  turn  the  Wandering  Jew  into  an  English  Pro- 
testant, and  make  him  solemnly  warn  England  against  the 
Jesuits,  is  really  too  bad  and  too  absurd.  Not  that  his  Pro- 
testantism is  of  the  worst  stamp.  Sometimes  his  pictures  of 
patristic  scenes  might  have  been  written  by  a  Catholic.  His 
religion  is  of  Mr.  Maitland's  school ;  at  least  so  we  gather 
from  the  eulogy  he  pronounces  on  that  clever  writer's  books 
on  the  Reformation  and  the  dark  ages.  When  he  does  drag 
in  his  Protestantism,  too,  he  generally  drags  it  in  by  the  heels, 
in  a  mighty  clumsy  and  controversial  fashion,  so  that  the 
reader  who  has  no  taste  for  a  disquisition  on  the  papacy 
between  Pope  Leo  and  the  Jew,  or  for  an  offensive  essay  on 
the  prerogatives  of  the  Blessed  Virgin,  may  easily  pass  them 
by,  and  confine  himself  to  Mr.  Hoffman  in  his  more  rational 
and  instructive  moods. 

In  the  volumes  before  us  our  author  brings  his  story  down 
to  the  fall  of  the  Roman  Nero,  conducting  the  Jew  to  all  the 
various  most  celebrated  scenes  in  the  ancient  world,  including 
Britain.  During  this  period  the  wanderer  undergoes  five 
transformations,  at  each  time  changing  his  name,  and  begin- 
ning life  again  as  a  young  man.  Mr.  Hoffman's  account  of 
the  first  of  these  marvels  is  a  fair  specimen  of  his  style,  display- 
ing, as  we  think,  in  connection  with  certain  faults,  a  decided 
imaginative  power. 

"  At  length  the  momentous  night  came  on.  Julianus,  exhausted 
by  continual  watchings,  liad  fallen  asleep.  I  remained  conscious  of 
existence — conscious  of  the  heavy  breathings  of  my  faithful  Juli- 
anus— but  my  brain  would  often  seem  as  if  it  were  wliirling  with 
more  than  the  velocity  of  the  potter's  trochus— myriads  of  gro- 


The  Wandering  Jew,  85 

tesque  and  horrific  phantoms  passed  quickly  and  fitfully  before  my 
mental  eye — and  ray  body  felt  as  if  it  were  rapidly  casting  off  all 
gross  and  feculent  particles  :  when  lo  !  I  beheld  these  minute  atoms, 
with  a  speed  truly  inconceivable,  flying  from  me  in  every  direction, 
as  would  beams  from  a  globe  of  light  I  With  an  extreme  energy, 
these  effluvia  were  issuing  from  ten  thousand  sally-ports,  seemingly 
of  a  now  lingering  and  almost  unseen  life!  I  imagined  I  could  see 
around  me  every  where,  or  really  saw,  and  with  an  enlarged  vision, 
millions  of  corporeal  and  morbid  particles,  flowing  from  every  pore 
■ — rising  into  thin  clouds,  that  must  have  been  quite  beyond  the  grasp 
of  usual  vision  !  But  oh,  what  w^as  my  loathing  horror,  when  my 
eyes  rested  upon  innumerable  little,  misshapen,  and  greedy  sprites, 
guided  by  that  great  serpent,  who  hath  been  named  Azrael,  and  who 
is  said  to  be  '  Lord  of  Flesh  and  Blood,'  and  likewise  is  called 
'Prince  of  this  World,'  all  flocking  suddenly  around  my  grosser  but 
then  vanishing  and  perishing  body !  Then  was  it  that  my  spirit 
seemed  to  be  gradually  sinking  into  a  kind  of  trance  ;  and  yet  with 
remains  of  consciousness  ;  for  I  saw  Azrael  and  his  minions  still 
voraciously  devouring  those  clouds  of  noisome  and  corrupt  atoms,  so 
long  as  they  issued  from  my  now  almost  lifeless  and  nearly  weight- 
less body ! 

"  As  these  loathsome  mists  became  more  attenuated,  and  gra- 
dually were  subsiding,  my  trance  proportionately  diminished  ;  reason 
was  fast  resuming  its  throne — the  numerous  hideous  little  imps  of 
corruption,  that  had  been  so  actively  flitting  about  me,  now  seemed 
gloated  with  their  foul  repast ;  and  Azrael  was  then  distinctly  seen 
of  me  bidding  them  hence — which  summons  they  all  incontinently 
obeyed ! 

"  I  then  lay  for  some  hours  in  sweet  repose, — Juliiinus  still  being 
in  profound  sleep  near  me.  My  body,  then  wholly  relieved  from 
the  pressure  of  Azrael,  and  of  his  ugly  host,  became  instantly  en- 
veloped in  a  bright  cerulean  cloud,  redolent  of  all  sweet  perfumes — 
the  blood  seemed  coursing  through  my  veins  with  its  wonted  mo- 
tion, and  was  soon  in  the  healthiest  and  most  reviving  action  ;  my 
respiration  was  like  that  of  boyhood — I  was  encompassed  by  many 
blissful  visions — myriads  of  lovely  forms  gracefully  sported  around 
me,  pointing  to  the  celestial  orbs,  and  presenting  to  me  faces  that 
ever  smiled — heaven  itself,  as  if  in  purposed  contrast  with  the  so 
recent  Hades  that  had  environed  me,  now  seemed  within  my  view 
and  reach, — and,  in  the  ecstasy  of  that  delightful  moment,  I  leaped 
involuntarily  from  my  couch,  on  Nisan's  fifteenth  day,  and  stood 
firmly  upon  my  feet,  in  the  presence  of  my  former,  but  now  greatly 
minished  and  recumbent  body — a  young  man,  of  precisely  the  same 
form  and  stature,  and  seemingly  of  the  same  age  I  was,  when,  at  the 
valley  gate,  those  astounding  words  were  uttered  by  him,  who,  so 
soon  after,  was  Calvary's  victim  I" 

"What  little  remains  of  the  old  body  is  then  buried ! 

The  next  transformation  is  briefly  stated  ;  but  the  third  is 


86  The  Wandering  Jew, 

full  of  marvels.  It  takes  place  at  the  bottom  of  the  ocean, 
whence  he  emerges,  once  more  young,  after  beholding  innu- 
merable wonderful  sights,  and  learning  all  sorts  of  astonishing 
truths ;  and  above  all,  saving  a  certain  cedar  box  containing 
his  autobiography  and  the  correspondence  of  his  friends ! 

All  this,  however,  is  nothing  to  the  fourth  transformation, 
which  takes  place  in  the  fires  of  Vesuvius  ! 

"Surely,"  says  the  Wanderer,  "it  was  naught  but  Je^^my  that,  on 
a  dark  and  fearful  night,  placed  me  at  the  verge  of  Vesuvius'  awful 
crater !  During  the  four  previous  days  and  nights  I  lay  on  my  couch 
in  the  small  castle  situate  at  its  base — then  experiencing  the  tortures 
of  a  slow  dissolution  of  that  gross  and  outward  body,  which  is  the 
destined  food  of  Azrael  and  his  hideous  attendants.  My  body  had 
already  become  so  thin  and  light  as  gready  to  agitate  me,  and  seemed 
as  if  now  destined  to  be  slowly  purged  by  the  latent  and  invisible 
fires  of  the  Air  around  me  !  The  atmosphere,  at  first  natural  and 
only  slightly  warm,  had  soon  become  so  intensely  charged  with  fiery 
particles,  and  so  concentrated,  that  these  aerial  heats  of  my  castle- 
chamber  quickly  boiled  and  dissipated  into  thin  vapours  all  the 
moisture  within  me  ;  and  my  blood — the  life  of  the  flesh — nay,  the 
minutest  secretions  of  my  bones,  became  so  hissing  hot,  that  all  were 
as  anxious  to  burst  from  their  myriad  tiny  channels,  as  are  drops  of 
water  to  rush  off,  when  cast  upon  some  intensely  heated  and  polished 
surface  !  Nor  were  the  horrid  pains  of  my  greatly  minished  body 
comparable  with  those  of  my  highly  agonised  mind, — hideous  pic- 
tures, that  congealed  my  soul,  were  ever  flitting  before  my  mental 
eye  ;•— visions  devised  by  demons,  and  upon  which  none  but  they 
could  gaze,  were  there !  Sometimes,  the  ugliest  of  them  would 
pause,  and  grin  vexatiously  before  me,— -others  would  flit  by  me 
with  inconceivable  rapidity,  and  with  such  gyrations  as  addled  and 
crazed  my  inner  brain  !  The  heat  that  now  environed  my  couch 
had  become  still  more  intense  ;  the  whole  chamber  seemed  as  a  fiery 
oven — body  and  soul  could  no  longer  endure  it ;  and,  when  in  utter 
despair,  both  were  instantly  endued  with  preternatural  strength, — so 
that,  in  this  raging  fever,  I  suddenly  sprang  from  my  couch,  and 
quicker  than  the  frightrned  tiger  could  have  bounded  there,  I  was 
upon  the  very  brink  of  Vesuvius'  boiling  mouth  ! — whence,  with 
maniacal  fury,  I  instantly  plunged  into  the  depths  of  its  sulphureous 
and  raging  fires  !  Oh,  these  were  a  thousand  times  keener  than  the 
concentrated  heat  of  the  air,  so  long  endured  by  me  in  my  chamber ! 
My  grosser  body,  whilst  I  had  remained  there  upon  my  couch,  had 
not  yet  been  quite  dissipated  ;  and  hence,  until  that  should  be  wholly 
dissolved  by  the  searching  volcanic  fires  now  around  me,  Cartaphilus 
was  doomed  to  suffer  more  than  even  Beelzebul  hath  no7V  to  bodily 
endure  ! — formatter  and  sin  are  much  allied — and  this  is  the  deepest 
of  all  the  mysteries  ! 

"  In  those  intensely  boiling  fires,  Time  was  nearly  lost  to  me : 
tnd  yet  was  I  not  wholly  unconscious  of  its  passage,  even  whilst  the 


Short  Notices.  87 

fiery  billows  were  purging  me  of  the  foul  luimours  that  remained, 
— tliese  gone,  I  then  contemplated  the  scenes  around  me  with  but 
little  pain  of  body,  and  with  still  less  note  of  time,  and  of  mental 
distress." 

Forthwith  the  burning  Wanderer  begins  to  learn  in  the 
fires  around  him  all  sorts  of  chemical  laws,  mingled  up  in 
true  transcendental  style  with  various  moral  truths  ;  on  which 
Mr,  Hoffman  informs  us,  that  "  had  Ingenhouse,  Black, 
Priestley,  and  Lavoisier,  together  with  the  whole  galaxy  of 
the  natural  philosophers  of  the  last  half  century,  conversed 
with  him,  their  toils  might  greatly  have  been  diminished." 

In  the  bowels  of  Vesuvius  the  Wanderer  remained  but  one 
short  hour,  when  he  was  shot  up  through  the  crater,  and  came 
softly  down  on  the  light  and  cooled  ashes  of  the  mountain 
cone,  far  out  of  the  reach  of  lava  and  hot  cinders;  a  youth 
again,  but,  alas !  hideously  ugly. 

The  fifth  transformation  is  by  petrifaction,  the  accompa- 
nying sensations  of  which  process  are  described  with  a  hor- 
rible cleverness.  Here,  however,  we  must  part  with  him  and 
his  experiences,  assuring  our  readers,  that  if  they  can  get  over 
the  Jew's  ludicrous  Protestantism  and  his  somewhat  wordy 
style,  they  will  glean  from  his  *  memoirs'  much  that  is  en- 
tertaining and  much  that  is  worth  learning. 


SHORT  NOTICES. 


The  Metropolitan  and  Provincial  Catholic  Almanac  (Dolman)  con- 
tains a  memoir  of  Dr.  Lingard,  by  ]Mr.  Tierney,  which  we  should  be 
glad  to  see  republished  in  some  form  more  likely  to  secure  it  a  perma- 
nent place  among  the  biographies  of  illustrious  Enghsh  Catholics.  We 
have  had  so  lew  men  like  Dr.  Lingard,  that  we  cannot  afford  to  lose  any 
records  concerning  them,  especially  when  drawn  up  with  the  care  which. 
Mr.  Tierney  has  bestowed  on  the  very  interesting  sketch  before  us.  At 
the  same  time  we  could  wish  that  he  had  drawn  his  pen  through  the 
sentence  in  which  he  has  a  fling  (to  say  the  least,  in  very  bad  taste) 
against  a  distinguished  controversialist,  whose  rank  will  not  allow  him 
to  return  such  hits.  Speaking  of  Dr.  Lingard's  able  articles  on  the 
ancient  Church  of  England  and  on  the  Reformation,  Mr.  Tierney  tells  us 
that  "  they  did  more,  in  their  quiet,  unpretending,  unostentatious  way, 
to  crush  the  pretensions  and  dissipate  the  sophistry  of  the  Oxford  writers, 
than  all  tlie  essays  and  all  the  lucubrations  put  together  of  other  less 
retiring  writers."  Who  this  is  meant  for,  it  is  impossible  to  misunder- 
stand ;  for  there  was  but  one  writer  besides  Dr.  Lingard  who  took  a  j)ro- 
minent  part  in  the  controversy  with  the  Oxford  school.  And  those  who 
hold  with  us,  that  the  object  of  a  controversialist  ought  to  be  to  convince 
an  opponent  rather  than  to  silence  him,  will  regret  that  Mr.  Tierney 
was  not  content  with  giving  Dr.  Lingard's  articles  the  praise  they  well 
deserve,  without  adding  an  insinuation  such  as  Dr.  Lingard  himself 


88  Short  Notices, 

would  never  have  condescended  to  adopt.  Nor  do  we  think  that  Dr. 
Lingard  in  his  maturest  age  would  have  thanked  a  biographer  who 
would  record  with  approbation  his  opinion  that  it  was  a  trifling  q{ies,Won 
as  to  whether  a  Catholic  historian  should  say  that  ''the  mind  of  St. 
Thomas  (of  Canterbury)  became  gradually  tinged  M'itli  enthusiasm," 
meaning,  not  a  noble,  Christian  enthusiasm,  but  something  very  like 
fanaticism.  Dr.  Lingard  lived  nearly  thirty  years  after  writing  the 
somewhat  petulant  letter  in  which  this  passage  occurs  ;  and  we  cannot 
doubt  that,  whatever  had  been  his  final  opinion  as  to  the  freedom  with 
which  the  great  actions  of  a  canonised  saint  maybe  criticised,  he  would 
not  so  far  have  forgotten  himself  as  to  term  the  question  a  mere  trifle, 
unworthy  the  attention  of  the  Propaganda. 

Of  the  general  contents  of  the  Almanac,  so  far  as  varietj^,  utility, 
and  general  arrangement  go,  we  can,  with  some  qualification,  speak 
very  favourably.  It  is  really,  so  far,  nearly  all  that  a  Catholic  Alnjanac 
ought  to  be.  We  only  regret  that  the  execution  is  not  equal  to  the 
design.  In  a  publication  of  this  kind,  correctness  is  every  thing.  One 
does  not  go  to  an  Almanac  for  sparkling  wit  or  spiritual  consolation, 
just  as  one  does  not  go  to  a  volume  of  sonnets  for  Railway  Time-Tables. 
This  Almanac,  however,  blunders  to  an  extent  positively  amusing,  even 
on  a  cursory  examination.  What,  then,  must  be  the  errors  which  a 
score  of  careful  examiners  would  detect !  Take,  for  instance,  the  list 
of  bishops  and  clergy.  We  observe  that  one  bishop,  in  partibus, 
is  extinguished  altogether;  for  while  Dr.  Morris  appears  among  the 
general  clergy,  Dr.  Hendren  is  nowhere  to  be  found.  In  like  manner 
we  have  to  sympathise  with  the  Jesuits  on  the  loss  of  Fathers  Laing 
Meason  and  Collyns;  with  the  Redemptorists,  who  have  been  deprived 
of  Father  Coffin ;  while  Father  Agnew,  the  Dominican,  who  has  been 
at  Rome  for  the  last  year  and  a  half,  is  comfortably  settled  at  Wood- 
chester.  The  Oratorians  are  peculiarly  favoured.  Father  Dalgairns 
is  invested  with  the  gift  of  bi-location,  apjiearing  in  one  page  as  resi- 
dent at  Sydenham,  and  in  another  at  Birmingham  under  the  name  of 
Father  Dalgairns.  A  similar  miraculous  poAver  appears  to  be  possessed 
by  the  Rev.  Bernard  Smith,  who  is  made  to  exist  both  at  Oscott  and  at 
Great  INIarlow  ;  and  by  Father  Maltus,  of  the  order  of  St.  Dominic, 
who  resides  at  Woodchester  as  Father  Maltus,  and  at  Nuneaton  as  Father 
Maltas.  Still  more  astonishing  is  the  history  of  Father  John  Gordon, 
who  at  ])age  111  is  alive  at  the  Birmingham  Oratory,  and  at  page  247 
ap])ears  to  have  died  on  the  13th  of  last  Fehruary.  The  clergy,  how- 
ever, seem  to  have  a  right  of  some  j^ears'  literary  survival  after  their 
actual  death  ;  for  Father  Waterton,  the  Jesuit,  who  lias  been  dead  about 
two  years,  and  Father  Robert  Johnson,  of  the  same  society,  who  has 
been  dead  about  four  years,  both  find  places  in  this  veracious  record. 
Now  and  then  some  priest  is  favoured  with  an  alias.  "The  Hon.  and 
Rev.  G.  Spencer,"  of  page  122,  becomes  the  "Very  Rev.  Father  Ig- 
natius," at  ])age  177. 

Ecclesiastical  titles  are,  of  course,  made  ducks  and  drakes  of.  The 
Cistercians  appear  to  have  elected  a  layman  for  their  prior,  and  to  have 
called  him  Father  Tatchell,  for  no  such  individual  is  to  be  found  in  the 
list  of  clergy  ;  indeed,  these  same  Cistercians  must  be  in  a  sad  state  of 
anarchy,  for  Father  Anderson,  who  is  prior  when  page  103  is  printed,  is 
degraded  to  be  sub-prior  by  the  time  the  com])ositor  has  got  to  page  177. 
From  the  next  page  we  should  guess  that  the  Benedictines  have  not  yet 
settled  the  titles  of  the  superioresses  of  their  nuns,  for  they  have  two 
"  lady  abbesses,"  two  "reverend  mothers,"  and  one  convent  without 
any  sui^erioress  at  all.    Dr.  Moore,  now  chaplain  to  the  nuns  at  Hands- 


Short  Notices,  89 

^vo^tb,  is  stripped  of  his  D.D.,  and  turned  into  the  "  Rev.  John  Moore, 
Canon,''^  half  way  down  the  very  page  in  the  fifth  line  of  which  he  is 
termed  the  "  Very  Rev.  J.  Moore,  D.D.'^  His  Holiness  the  Pope  fares 
no  better  than  his  subjects  ;  for  he  has  to  mourn  the  loss  of  three  out  of 
four  of  his  Camerieri  segrcti  partecipanti,  Monsignor  Talbot  being  the 
only  one  who  survives.  Seeing  how  his  Holiness  is  served,  13r.  Louis 
JEngJish  will  no  doubt  be  reconciled  to  the  discovery  that  the  Collegio 
Ecclesiastlco,  over  wiiich  he  has  been  presiding  for  several  months,  is 
not  yet  "ready  to  receive  its  members,'^  and  that  he  himself  is  still 
vice-rector  of  the  English  college.  As  to  mere  spelling,  where  the  com- 
positor could  go  astray,  he  seems  to  have  been  left  to  his  own  fancies. 
Thus  Mr.  Wheble's  residence  in  one  page  is  said  to  be  "  Balmarshe 
Court,"  in  another  "  Builmarsh  Court;"  both  spellings  being  wrong. 

What  the  compiler  has  made  of  the  "Catholic  Peerage,  Baronetage, 
and  Knightage,"  we  cannot  say,  not  having  had  time  to  examine  it. 
The  first  glance,  however,  shows  us  the  name  and  description  of  one  in- 
dividual who  is  not  a  peer,  not  a  baronet,  and  not  a  knight,  viz.  Mr, 
Thomas  Wyse,  formerly  M.P.  for  Waterford,  and  now  ambassador  at 
Athens;  and  the  name  and  title  of  another  who  is  not  a  Catholic,  viz. 
Lady  Anna  Maria  Monsell. 

Really  all  this  is  too  bad.  No  doubt  it  is  a  difficult  thing  to  insure 
perfect  coi-rectness  in  such  a  work  ;  but  if  it  cannot  be  attained,  or  very 
nearly  attained,  the  work  should  not  be  published  at  all.  In  thi.s  case, 
moreover,  the  blundering  is  the  less  excusable,  inasmuch  as  the  publica- 
tion comes  out  professedly  to  remedy  the  defects  of  the  Old  Directory  ; 
and  at  least  one  half  of  its  blunders  might  have  been  corrected 
merely  by  a  careful  revisal  of  its  own  pages.  Vie  liope  for  better  things 
next  year,  both  as  to  correctness  and  plan.  The  latter,  as  we  have  said, 
is  on  the  whole  satisfactory,  but  it  has  its  faults.  For  instance,  after 
reading  "  The  Stranger's  Directory  to  New  York,"  Ave  turn  the  page  and 
stumble  upon  "The  Pope  and  the  Sacred  College:"  after  whom  come 
"  The  Hierarchy  of  France."  We  are  puzzled,  too,  to  discover  on  what 
principle  he  can  have  selected  the  few  notabilia  which  he  has  scattered 
through  the  twelve  months  of  the  year  in  the  secular  calendar.  Inter- 
spersed with  the  ordinary  announcements  about  the  sun,  the  moon,  tho 
law  terms,  and  so  forth,  we  find  in  each  month  three  or  four  odds  and 
ends  of  historical  chronology,  about  half  the  days  in  each  month  being 
left  altogether  blank.  Here,  in  December,  for  instance,  we  are  told 
that  on  the  10th,  "grouse  and  black-cock  shooting  ends;"  that  on  the 
13th,  the  "Council  of  Trent  opened,  1545;"  and  on  the  29th,  that 
"  William  Viscount  Stafford  was  beheaded  in  1680,"  seventeen  days 
being  left  without  any  event  at  all,  and  the  rest  telling  us  about  the 
rising  and  setting  of  the  sun,  and  so  forth.  When  icitl  our  Catholic 
publications  cease  to  justify  the  reproach,  that  scarcely  any  thing  ever 
appears  from  our  hands  which  might  not,  with  ordinary  care,  have  been 
better  done? 

The  old  Catholic  Directory  (Jones,  Richardson,  Burns,  &c.)  appears 
much  in  its  old  shape,  with  one  or  two  additions,  doubtless  caused  by 
the  appearance  of  its  more  pretentious  rival,  and  which  it  announces 
in  a  crusty  kind  of  "  notice"  from  the  Editor.  It  gives  more  scanty 
information  ;  but  Avhat  it  gives  certainly  seems  more  correctly  drawn 
up  than  that  which  is  to  be  found  in  the  pages  of  its  competitor.  Never- 
theless, it  has  quite  blunders  enough,  and  to  spare.  Thus,  ishop  Hen- 
dren  is  still  kept  at  Nottingham;  Dr.  Louis  English  is  still  Vice- 
Rector  of  tlie  English  College  at  Rome,  the  Collegio  Ecclesiastico  ap- 
pearing non-existent.     A  rapid  survey  shows  us  also  that  a  few  Jesuit 


90  Short  Notices. 

and  otiier  priests  are  demolished  with  a  coolness  that  would  charm  tho 
Protestant  heart;  as,  for  instance,  Father  Johnson  (of  Bristol)  and 
Father  Collyns,  both  of  the  Society  of  Jesus  ;  and  Fathers  R.  Grey  and 
Doherty,  from  among  the  Secular  Clerj^y  of  Liverpool.  By  way  of 
compensation,  however,  Father  George  O'Connell,  S.J.,  who  has  been 
dead  some  nine  or  ten  months,  here  still  lives ;  and  Charles  Cooke,  a 
theological  student  at  St.  Bruno's,  has  been  prematurely  ordained. 
The  Pope  too  has  vanished,  though  the  College  of  Cardinals  remains, 
recorded  with  a  few  charming  specimens  of  spelling  in  their  Christian 
names.  We  observe  that  here  also,  as  in  the  Almanac,  two  or  three 
priests  have  the  gift  of  bi-location  assigned  to  them  :  the  Rev.  James 
Egan  resides  both  at  Holy  Cross,  Liverpool,  and  at  Sicklinghall  in  York- 
shire ;  the  Rev.  J.  Flynn  serves  both  the  mission  of  St.  Joseph's,  Liver- 
pool, and  that  of  Blackbrook,  near  St.  Helens  !  It  is  a  pity  that  priests 
with  such  rare  powers  of  activity  should  not  be  more  numerous. 

The  gem  of  the  whole,  however,  is  what  is  called  the  "Memoir"  of 
the  late  Lord  Shrewsbury ;  a  meagre  collection  of  family  facts,  including 
the  epitaph  on  Lord  Shrewsbury's  mother,  and  swelled  out  to  the 
dimensions  of  twenty  pages,  only  by  an  accumulation  of  panegyrics, 
conceived  in  a  spirit  of  the  most  fulsome  adulation.  It  would  really  seem 
as  though,  to  the  writer  of  this  memoir,  an  earl's  coronet  were  equiva- 
lent to  the  nimbus  of  glory  with  which  painters  surround  the  heads  of 
saints.  By  way  of  climax,  he  has  actually  conferred  a  species  of  ca- 
nonisation on  the  object  of  his  worship,  and  tells  us  that  he  "bestows" 
on  him  the  title  of  "  the  munificent  T^ro^ec^or  of  Catholicity  in  England 
for  the  last  five  and  twenty  years  !"  an  expression  which  we  regret  to 
see  adopted  h\  the  present  Earl  also  in  a  private  letter  addressed  to  the 
biographer  of  his  uncle.  We  will  not  do  this  young  nobleman  the  in- 
justice to  suppose  that  it  has  been  of  his  own  accord  that  he  has  used 
this  language :  it  must  have  been  dictated  to  him  by  some  indiscreet  ad- 
viser. But  however  this  may  be,  we  confess  that  it  is  nothing  less  than 
humiliating  to  us  to  see  a  man,  who,  in  becoming  a  Catholic  priest  has 
received  a  dignity  higher  than  that  of  the  highest  of  earthly  princes, 
thus  condescending  to  worship  a  coronet  and  an  ample  rent-roll,  and  so 
blinded  by  his  admiration  of  these  ai)purtenances,  as  to  be  unable  to 
recognise  a  fault  in  the  individual  to  whom  they  belong. 

Lord  Shrewsbury's  career  was  peculiar,  marked  with  great  virtues 
and  many  good  deeds,  but  also  with  very  undeniable  faults;  so  that 
a  true  memoir  of  him  would  be  interesting  and  valuable,  both  in  the 
way  of  example  and  warning.  In  many  respects  he  set  a  worthy  ex- 
ample to  his  fellow-Catholics  of  the  noble  and  wealthier  classes.  His 
gifts  for  religious  purposes  maj'^,  without  any  abuse  of  language,  be 
Justly  called  munificent.  If  they  were  not  always  guided  by  the  soundest 
judgment,  they  were  undoubtedly  unselfish  in  their  intention,  and  that 
is  no  little  praise.  When  the  Protestant  world  scoffed,  and  even  many 
of  his  Catholic  acquaintances  wondered  and  disapproved,  he  published 
his  firm  belief  in  the  miraculous  nature  of  the  appearances  in  the 
Estatica  and  the  Addolorata.  He  behaved  like  a  Christian  and  a  gen- 
tleman to  O'Connell,  alter  their  wordy  quarrel  about  repeal ;  and  with 
no  ungracious  reserve  he  made  the  amende  honorable  to  Dr.  MacHale 
for  the  scandal  he  had  caused  by  his  attacks  on  tliat  prelate.  Were 
all  the  wealthy  Catholics  of  England  to  practise  one-tenth  part  of  Lord 
Shrewsbury's  self-denial  for  the  benefit  of  their  fellow-Christians,  the 
want  of  money  would  soon  become  one  of  the  least  pressing  of  our  pre- 
sent necessities.  His  merits  were  such,  that  we  can  only  regret  that 
his  memory  should  have  been   disfigured  with  the  servile  adulation 


Short  Notices,  91 

against  which  we  have  thought  it  our  duty  to  protest,  and  which  could 
only  serve  to  throw  an  air  of  ridicule  over  the  history  of  any  man,  whe- 
ther peer  or  commoner,  priest  or  layman.  In  every  page  of  the  Me- 
moir, as  it  stands  at  present,  we  have  been  irresistibly  reminded  of  a 
certain  Protestant  epitaph  which  we  once  heard  of,  and  the  writer  of 
of  which,  after  relating  all  the  virtues,  graces,  and  accom  j)lishments  of 
an  amiable  young  lady  lately  deceased,  concluded  by  saying,  "  She  was 
the  cousin  of  Lady  J  .  .  .  .,  and  of  such  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven." 

A  Chronicle  of  the  Reign  of  Charles  IX.  By  Prosper  Merimee. 
(Bentley.)  The  title  of  this  little  work  was  so  taking,  that  w^e  were 
entrapped  into  buying  it.  Instead  of  its  being  what  its  title  indicated, 
or,  as  we  had  conjectured,  an  historical  tale  illustrative  of  the  time  and 
of  the  terrible  event  which  has  invested  it  with  so  painful  an  interest,  it 
proved  to  be  a  romance  of  the  modern  infidel  French  school,  as  shock- 
ing to  native  modesty  as  to  religious  feeling,  in  which  the  writer  seems 
to  revel  in  descriptions  of  the  horribly  impious  with  a  gusto  as  nauseous 
as  it  is  depraved.  Sparkling  in  style,  abounding  in  adventure  and 
stirring  incident,  and  characterised  by  that  naivete  which  is  peculiarly 
French,  it  possesses  all  the  qualities  calculated  to  interest  and  excite, 
and  therefore  the  more  calculated  to  injure.  Nor  can  we  deny  that,  as 
a  "chronicle"  of  the  time,  it  strikingly  illustrates  one  side  of  the  pic- 
ture ;  our  only  regret  is,  that  the  talents  which  M.  Merimee  undoubt- 
edly possesses,  and  which,  rightly  applied,  might  have  m;ide  him  one 
of  the  most  delightful  of  historic  writers,  should  be  prostituted  to  pur- 
poses so  mischievous  and  vile.  We  are  sorry  to  see  that  the  taste  for 
this  order  of  literature  is  on  the  increase  in  England,  and  that  the  supply 
unhappily  keeps  pace  with,  and  at  the  same  time  stimulates  the  de- 
mand. This,  we  will  add,  only  the  more  strongly  proves  the  necessity 
of  providing  our  own  people  with  good  and  wholesome  food  of  a  pleas- 
ing and  attractive  character.  As  the  preface  contains  some  interesting 
matter  on  a  subject  to  which  our  attention  happens  to  have  been  lately 
directed,  we  shall  recur  to  the  publication  in  our  next  Number. 

Theological  Essays,  by  the  Rev.  J.  D.  Maurice,  Chajjlain  of  Lin- 
coln's Inn,  and  (late)  Professor  of  Divinity  in  King's  College,  Lon- 
don. (Cambridge,  Macmillan  and  Co.)  This  book  is  doubtless  of  a 
high  order  of  literary  merit,  being  full  of  thought  and  well  expressed, 
though,  both  in  thought  and  expression,  it  sometimes  exhibits  too  great 
an  imitation  of  the  school  of  Carlyle  and  Emerson.  Its  effect  in  the 
Church  of  England  has  been  important;  for  by  its  means  another  doc- 
trine, that  of  the  eternal  duration  of  the  punishment  of  the  damned, 
may  be  considered  to  have  been  shelved  as  an  open  question.  The 
whole  controversy  is  instructive  to  the  Catholic,  as  furnishing  a  new 
illustration  of  the  old  observation,  that  below  the  lowest  deep  to  which 
any  given  Protestant  sect  has  yet  sunk,  there  is  still  a  lower  to  which 
it  is  tending.  Mr.  Maurice  and  his  party  here  abandon  the  old  foim- 
dations  of  Protestant  orthodoxy;  and  if  they  have  kept  the  fabric  toler- 
ably together,  it  is  because  by  main  force  they  have  carried  it  from  its 
foundations,  and  for  the  present  hold  it  suspended  in  mid-air  over  the 
abyss.  While,  on  the  other  hand,  Dr.  Jelf  and  his  party  do  not  dream 
of  objecting  to  Mr.  Maurice's  treatment  of  the  foundation  and  evidence 
of  religion,  but  simply  fix  their  fangs  in  what  is  only  a  necessary  con- 
sequence of  the  principles  which  he  adopts,  compared  to  which,  his 
doctrine  on  eternal  death  may  be  called  orthodoxy  itself. 

The  prima  facie  intention  of  the  author  is  to  prove  the  orthodox  faith 
(which,  as  we  have  said,  he  at  present  holds  in  tolerable  fulness  for  a 


92  SJiort  Notices, 

Protestant)  against  Unitarians.  But,  in  his  method  of  proof,  he  gives 
np  all  external  evidence  of  its  truth,  and  relies  simply  on  personal  and 
subjective  grounds,  proceeding  directly  from  the  consciousness  and  con- 
science of  the  subject  affirming  to  the  reality  of  the  object  affirmed. 
Not  that  he  quite  admits  the  liberal  principle,  that  what  any  man  be- 
lieves is  truth  to  him  ;  in  his  search  for  originality  he  has  hit  upon  a  via 
media  even  here:  ''Truth,"  he  says  (p.  312),  "I  hold  not  to  be  that 
which  each  man  troweth,  but  to  be  that  which  lies  at  the  bottom  of  all 
men's  trowings,  that  in  which  tliose  trowings  have  their  only  meeting- 
point."  If  all  men's  ''  trowings"  are  collectively  true  at  the  bottom,  we 
don't  quite  see  how  individually  they  can  be  false ;  so  we  doubt  the 
validity  of  Mr.  Maurice's  distinction.  Still  we  see  what  he  means ;  it  is 
the  true  Anglican  via  media  theory,  by  which  Hooker  arrives  at  what 
he  considers  a  true  definition  of  the  Eucharist,  by  striking  an  average 
of  the  Catholic,  Lutheran,  and  Zuinglian  doctrines,  each  of  Avhich  ho 
holds  to  be  false ;  and  by  which,  before  now,  Dr.  Jelf  has  tried  to  prove 
the  truth  of  Anglicanism,  because  it  lies  in  the  mean  between  Popery 
on  the  one  hand,  and  Dissent  on  the  other;  hence,  perhaps,  his  tender- 
ness towards  this  fundamental  principle  of  our  author.  Mr.  Maurice, 
however,  does  not  look  for  truth  in  systems,  but  in  human  nature ;  what 
is  implied  in  the  traditions,  in  the  thoughts,  act?,  v.ords,  and  fellowship 
of  men,  is  the  truth ;  it  is  to  be  sought  within  us,  not  without  us.  In 
his  system  "the  ordinary  methods  of  controversy  are  entirely  out  of 

place; to  argue  and  debate  as  if  it  turned  on  points  of  verbal 

criticism,  &c.,  must  have  the  effect  of  making  us  doubt  inwardly  whether 
the  truth  signifies  any  thing  to  us"  (p.  78).  The  authority  of  the  Church 
is  just  as  shifting  a  ground  as  verbal  criticism  ;  in  fact,  all  external  evi- 
dence is  worse  than  useless;  for  to  bring  truth  to  a  man  from  without,  is 
to  tell  him  that  it  has  no  place  within  him.  But  yet  our  author  does 
not  accept  all  deductions  from  the  consciousness  as  revealed  truths ; 
they  must  be  approved  by  the  conscience,  which  is  the  great  test  of 
revelation ;  priestcraft  has  systematised  them  without  reference  to  this 
test,  and  has  only  founded  religions  tending  to  sacerdotal  aggrandise- 
ment ;  but  a  theology  which  should  explain  all  the  consciousnesses,  and 
at  the  same  time  clear  and  satisfy  the  individual  conscience,  is,  for  that 
very  reason,  revealed  by  God ;  for  He  speaks  not  by  an  external  voice, 
but  by  the  internal  convictions  of  mankind.  Thus,  the  resurrection  of  our 
Lord  is  to  be  believed  because  the  message  '•'must  have  been  sent  from 
a  Father  in  heaven,  because  no  one  else  knev/  how  much  they  wanted 

it The  testimony  will  be  weighty,  because  the  thing  testified  of 

is  that  which  all  men  every  where  are  wanting"  (pp.  163,  164).  That 
doctrines  are  anticipated  is  the  chief  proof  of  their  being  revealed ;  oppo- 
sition to  these  anticipations  would  be  decisive  against  the  claims  of  a 
pretended  revelation  (p.  236).  His  own  reasons  for  accepting  the  Bible 
are  purely  subjective;  he  receives  it  from  "the  traditions  of  his  coun- 
try" as  a  book  said  to  be  inspired ;  but  he  only  comes  to  believe  its 
inspiration  from  experience  of  what  it  teaches  him.  After  using  the 
Bible,  he  accepts  it  as  a  revelation  "  not  on  the  authority  of  any  Sama- 
ritan woman  or  Church  doctor,  but  because  he  has  heard  Christ  for 
himself,  speaking  to  him  out  of  this  book,  and  speaking  to  him  in 
his  heart,  and  knows  indeed  that  he  is  that  Saviour  v/ho  should  come 
into  the  world"  (p.  339).  Certainly  this  position,  as  it  rests  on  no  ra- 
tional grounds,  is  unassailable  by  argument;  but  then  it  is  as  good 
for  the  Brahmin  in  defence  of  his  Vedas,  and  for  the  Mahometan  for 
his  Koran,  as  for  the  Christian  and  the  Bible,  for  each  man  must  judge 
for  himself  what  is  desirable  for  man.    It  places  Mr.  Maurice  out  of  the 


Short  Notices,  93 

reach  of  Mr.  Francis  Newman,  but  it  carries  him  within  the  range  of 
Feuerbach's  batteries.  Because,  granting  the  necessit}^  of  the  system 
for  the  human  mind,  the  need  no  more  proves  that  God  made  this  sys- 
tem, than  the  need  of  the  human  body  for  clothing  in  a  cold  climate 
proves  that  God  revealed  to  the  tailors  and  milliners  the  fashions  for 
the  year.  "  I  believe  because  man  must  wish  it  to  be  true,"  is  ground 
for  personal  confidence,  no  ground  for  assertion  of  truth.  But  this 
ground  being  once  generalised  into  the  evidence  of  Christianity,  it 
is  quite  clear  that  the  dogma  of  hell  can  no  longer  stand.  Man  may 
well  hope  and  desire  that  the  three  persons  of  the  Godhead,  the  incar- 
nation of  the  Son,  and  His  redemption  of  mankind,  may  be  facts  ;  but 
.  he  would  be  a  brute  to  desire  that  hell  may  be  the  eternal  portion  of 
those  who  injure  him.  Dr.  Jelf  and  his  party  should  not  attack  this 
negation  of  Mr.  Maurice,  but  the  principles  that  conduct  him  to  it. 

Though  a  system,  hov/ever,  has  no  foundations,  but  is  launched  out 
into  sjiace  like  a  planet,  suspended  on  nothing,  yet  it  may  be  complete 
and  circular  in  itself.  This  we  do  not  find  to  be  the  case  with  jNIr. 
Maurice's  theory.  He  seems  to  us  to  defend  Christianity  by  reducing 
it  to  a  universal  nonentity.  In  the  essays  on  justification  and  regenera- 
tion (pp.  9-10)  he  brings  out  the  theory,  that  by  the  life  and  death  of 
our  Lord  the  whole  human  race,  and  every  individual  of  it,  is,  and  has 
been  already,  justified  and  regenerated.  Why  not  also  give  a  retro- 
spective effect  to  our  Lord's  merits?  Why  should  the  Pagan  of  B.C.  5 
be  worse  off  than  the  Pagan  of  a.d.  40?  We  must  therefore  suppose 
that  all  men  who  were  ever  born,  were,  by  the  decree  of  God  to  redeem 
man  by  the  incarnation  of  his  Son,  at  their  birtii  justified  and  regene- 
rate. Again,  the  gift  of  the  Spirit  is  not  connected  with  any  society  or 
church,  but  belongs  to  the  whole  human  race  (p.  376).  What  then,  we 
may  well  ask,  is  the  distinctive  characteristic  of  the  Church  of  which 
we  hear  so  much  in  Scripture? 

From  this  Universalism  (to  our  minds  nearly  as  absurd  as  that  of 
Theodore  Parker,  which  our  author  repudiates)  it  follows  again,  that  no 
man  can  be  destined  to  suffer  in  hell  for  all  eternity.  If  the  divine  in 
man  is  strong  enough  to  survive  all  the  superstitions  and  abominations  of 
the  Pagan  world,  what  can  deserve  an  eternal  punishment?  Hence  he 
afiirms  that  eternal  death  is  simply  the  contrary  of  eternal  life,  which 
is  the  knowledge  of  God;  and  that  eternity  has  nothing  to  do  with 
duration — ignorance  of  God  is,  for  the  time  being,  eternal  death.  We 
suppose  that  he  would  also  deny  or  exi)lain  away  the  doctrine  of  original 
shi,  which  seems  quite  inconsistent  with  his  system.  As  may  be  sup- 
j)Osed  from  his  assumption  of  the  innate  divinity  of  human  nature,  he 
denounces  as  immoral  all  actions  done  from  unmanly  motives,  such  as 
fear  of  punishment ;  he  seems  to  think  it  would  be  better  to  remain  an 
infidel  than  to  "  believe  in  a  God  because,  if  there  should  happen  to 
be  one.  He  might  send  us  to  hell  for  denying  His  existence"  (p.  236). 
This  is  the  purpose  which  he  (rigntly  or  wrongly)  attributes  to  T)i'. 
Newman's  Homanism  and  Popular  Protestantism.  It  is  a  pity  that  he 
was  not  acquainted  with  the  Catholic  doctrine  of  the  universal  distribu- 
tion of  "  sufficient  grace ;"  this  might  have  saved  him  from  his  own 
universalisms.  But  he  every  where  shows  great  ignorance  of  our  doc- 
trines ;  he  says  that  we  hold  Manichean  views  on  "  fatherhood  and  the 
conjugal  state  ;"  and  he  attributes  to  us  the  Lutheran  absurdity  of  ex- 
plaininjj  regeneration  to  mean  "  the  substitution  in  certain  persons,  at 
some  given  moment,  of  a  nature  specially  bestowed  upon  them,  for  the 
one  which  belongs  to  them  as  ordinary  human  beings"  (p.  223).  If  the 
historian  of  ancient  and  modern  philosophies  had  taken  ordinary  pains 


91*  Short  Notices, 

to  make  himself  acquainted  with  the  commonest  Catholic  philosophy, 
he  would  not  have  imputed  to  the  Church  this  ridiculous  dogma,  in- 
vented by  Luther,  but  repudiated  from  the  very  first  by  us.  If  he 
would  read  Mohler^s  Syynbolik,  he  would  see  how  the  whole  anthro- 
pology of  Protestantism  involves  the  aflirmation,  while  that  of  Catho- 
licity involves  the  negation  of  this  position. 

The  Young  Christian's  Library  (Dublin,  J.  Duffy)  is  in  its  design  a 
most  spirited  and  praiseworthy  undertaking  :  and  we  wish  we  could 
speak  with  equal  commendation  of  the  manner  in  which  it  is  being  exe- 
cuted. We  have  read  the  first  five  numbers  ;  and  have  found  the  form, 
the  type,  the  paper  and  the  press- work,  every  thing  which,  for  the  price, 
we  could  expect  or  desire  ;  but  it  is  the  matter  in  which  we  have  been 
disappointed.  The  lives  have  not  been  carefully  written  with  a  view  to 
the  particular  class  for  whose  benefit  they  are  intended  ;  some  of  them 
are  manifestly  translations,  and  not  elegant  translations  ;  and  all  delight 
in  the  use  of  difficult  and  Latin  words,  instead  of  the  pure  and  homely 
Saxon  which  the  poor  can  best  understand.  Thus,  if  a  saint  is  buried, 
he  is  here  *' inhumed;"  if  he  raises  a  dead  man  to  life,  he  "  resuscitates" 
him;  Jerusalem  is  the  "Deicide  city  ;"  a  crusade  "  eventuates"  badly  ; 
the  Church  of  the  early  ages  is  the  "  nascent  Church,"  &c.  &c.  More- 
over, some  of  the  lives  are  far  from  having  been  happily  selected,  and 
others  are  told  in  a  meagre,  uninteresting  way;  we  can  scarcely  imagine 
the  life  of  a  saint,  for  instance,  less  interesting  to  the  humbler  classes 
than  that  of  Pope  Gelasius  in  No.  III.  of  the  series.  The  publication  of 
a  library  of  this  kind  is  a  move  in  the  right  direction,  and  we  wish  it 
well  with  all  our  hearts ;  but  we  trust  the  editor,  or  editors,  will  seek 
to  improve  these  obvious  faults,  or  it  certainly  will  not  succeed  com- 
mercially, nor  be  any  real  boon  to  those  for  whose  benefit  the  spirited 
publisher  intends  it. 

Victoria,  late  Australia  Felix  ;  an  historical  and  descriptive  Account 
of  the  Colony  and  its  Gold-mines,  by  William  Westgarth,  late  Member 
of  the  Legislative  Council  of  Victoria  (London,  Simpkin  and  Marshal.) 
Among  the  countless  books  of  description  and  personal  adventure 
relating  to  Australia  that  have  a  mere  ephemeral  interest,  this  work 
stands  forth  quite  as  a  classic.  It  is  not  wanting  in  lively  and  graphic 
description  of  places  and  persons;  but  its  great  value  consists  in  the 
authentic  account  which  it  gives  of  the  history,  statistics,  society,  pur-  ' 
suits,  and  politics  of  the  colony.  It  is  the  book  for  those  who  wish  to 
understand  the  advantages  and  disadvantages  of  Australian  life. 

A  Lady's  Visit  to  the  Gold-diggings  of  Australia  (Mrs.  C.  Clacy), 
on  the  contrary,  is  merely  an  amusing  book  of  personal  adventure,  with 
well-told  sketches  of  life  at  the  diggings. 

Mount  Lebanon;  a  Ten  Years'  Residence^  from  1842  to  1852,  by 
Colonel  Churchill,  3  vols.  (Saunders  and  Otley).  It  would  have  been 
difficult,  for  so  long  a  resident,  not  to  tell  a  great  many  things  worth 
knowing  of  this  interesting  tract  of  country  ;  and  it  would  also  be 
difficult  to  arrange  what  had  to  be  told  in  a  more  slip-shod,  diffuse,  and 
disorderly  manner  than  the  gallant  author  has  done  in  these  volumes. 
Half  the  second  volume  is  taken  up  with  ill-arranged  extracts  from 
Druse  religious  writings  ;  but  there  is  no  philosophical  appreciation  of 
their  system.  Ancient  history,  modern  anecdotes,  statistics,  and  de- 
scriptions, are  jumbled  together  in  the  most  extraordinary  manner. 

Old  Enr/land  and  New  England,  in  a  Series  of  Vieios  taken  on  the 
Spot,  by  Alfred  Bunn,  2  vols.  (Bentley.)  The  poet  Bunn  has  made  a 
better  book  than  his  admirers  gave  him  credit  for.     There  is  plenty  of 


Short  Notices.  95 

his  well-known  vanity,  and  a  great  quantity  of  nonsensical  reflections; 
but  he  has  jotted  down  all  that  he  noticed,  and  has  given  us  a  jumble 
of  amusing,  if  not  very  useful  statistics  on  all  possible  subjects.  His 
personal  animosities  come  out  racily  in  his  account  of  English  actors 
who  have  visited  America.  He  reviles  Macready,  recounts  how  he 
quarrelled  with  Mrs.  Butler,  and  how  Jenny  Lind  "bilked"  him.  He 
abuses  Mrs.  Stowe  and  her  movement;  recounts  the  effects  of  spirit- 
rapping  in  the  increase  of  lunacy  and  suicide;  and  finds  out  that  the 
Irish  peasantry  would  never  emigrate  of  their  own  accord,  if  it  were  not 
for  the  advice  of  "  their  tampering  monks."  The  volumes  are  certainly 
amu'sing. 

The  Devotion  to  the  Heart  of  Jesus,  Sfc,  by  J.  B.  Dalgairns,  Priest 
of  the  Oratory  (Richardson  and"  Son),  is' one  of  the  most  valuable  and 
welcome  contributions  to  Catholic  literature  which  has  appeared  in  our 
language  for  a  very  long  time.  It  is  a  highly  scientific  treatise  on  the 
rise  and  progress,  the  nature,  basis,  and  true  object  of  devotion  to  the 
Sacred  Human  Heart  of  Jesus;  and  while  it  treats  this  great  subject  in 
a  way  which  must  singularly  gratify  the  professional  theologian,  and 
afford  valuable  instruction  to  the  student,  its  whole  tone  and  style  are 
eminently  popular.  We  recognise  in  every  page  the  same  glowing  ear- 
nestness, the  same  inimitable  pathos,  which  only  a  few  years  ago  dis- 
tinguished two  or  three  of  the  favourite  volumes  in  the  Oxford  series  of 
the  Lives  of  the  Saints,  the  work,  we  believe,  of  the  same  accomplished 
author.  With  remarkable  modesty,  ho^^ver,  art  of  the  highest  kind  is 
made  wholly  subservient  to  his  noble  theme;  his  language  is  copious 
and  elevated,  because  the  subject  furnishes  ideas  which  can  be  expressed 
only  in  such  language,  and  by  one  who  is  thoroughly  master  of  it. 
There  is  an  evenness  and  strength  in  the  style,  a  fulness  of  expression 
and  illustration  in  the  successive  divisions  of  the  subject,  which  are  very 
charming,  when  united  (as  they  here  are)  to  a  deep  and  comprehensive 
acquaintfmce  with  the  labours  of"  the  great  Catholic  theologians  in  the 
same  field.  Mr.  Dalgairns  has,  in  fact,  furnished  us  with  the  only  good 
compendium,  in  the  English  language,  or,  as  far  as  we  know,  in  any 
other,  of  what  doctors  like  Cardinal  De  Lugo,  and  others,  have  thought 
or  written  on  the  Humanity  of  Jesus,  and  its  relation  to  the  Eternal 
Word. 

He  introduces  the  subject,  with  great  propriety,  by  giving  us  a 
clever  sketch  of  the  history  and  spirit  of  Jansenism,  the  great  theologi- 
cal antagonist  to  the  worship  of  Jesus'  Human  Heart.  Severe,  unscru- 
pulous, obstinate,  and  malignant,  to  a  degree  that  is  quite  surprising  in 
persons  who  professed  to  aim  at  higher  attainments  in  spirituality  than 
their  opponents,  the  Arnauld  family,  and  its  circle  of  unprincipled 
abettors  m  their  miserable  contest,  have  earned  an  unqualified  and  well- 
merited  condemnation  from  every  sound  religious  mind  in  full  posses- 
sion of  the  facts  of  the  case  ;  which,  however,  few  English  readers  have 
liitherto  been.  The  author  then  advances  to  the  consideration  of  the 
Sacred  Heart  of  the  Incarnate  God,  under  an  objective  and  a  subjective 
aspect,  as  it  is  worthily  honoured  with  our  highest  degree  of  worship, 
and  as  it  is  susceptible  of  emotions  of  love  and  ineffable  compassion.  In 
our  opinion,  there  is  no  part  of  this  beautiful  book  more  beautiful  than 
the  whole  chapter  on  the  Love  of  the  Heart  of  Jesus  for  Sinners ;  it  is 
running  over  with  tenderest  unction,  enough  to  dissolve  the  hardest 
l)eart  in  tears  of  penitence  and  reconciliation.  Those  generous  souls, 
too,  who  are  trying  to  do  something  more  for  Jesus  than  keep  from 
mortal  sin,  are  not  forgotten.  They  have  a  delightful  chapter  all  to 
themselves,  which  must  send  them  on  their  happy  way  rejoicing.  In 
VOL.  I. — NEW  SERIES.  H 


96  Short  Notices, 

the  diffusion  of  systematic  knowledge,  regard insr  this  latest  and  most 
clear  manifestation  of  the  Incarnate  God  and  Redeemer,  and  in  the 
spread  of  devotion  to  it,  we  read  the  brightest  signs  of  the  future,  for 
Catholicity  in  England.  Better  than  all  else  that  is  good  and  promising, 
because  it  includes  whatever  else  is  so; — devotion  to  the  Sacred  Human 
Heart  of  Jesus  we  believe  to  be  endowed  with  an  especial  benediction 
for  these  days  of  ours  :  and  the  appearance  of  a  work  like  this,  which 
cannot  fail  to  give  it  an  impulse  at  once  enthusiastic  and  lasting,  may 
well  be  regarded  as  a  benefaction  to  every  British  Catholic,  and  to  the 
whole  Church. 

Reliyious  Journey  in  the  East,  by  the  Abbe  de  St.  Michon  (Bent- 
ley),  is  the  first  part  of  a  work  on  the  religious  aspect  of  things  in  the 
East,  by  the  kind-hearted  abbe  who  accompanied  De  Saulcy  on  the 
journey,  some  of  the  results  of  which  we  noticed  in  our  December 
number.  The  work,  in  English,  is  published  as  if  it  were  complete, 
and  we  are  left  to  imagine  the  reasons  for  which  the  second  part  is 
withheld  ;  perhaps  it  was  not  acceptable  to  the  English  Protestant  editor, 
though  certainly  in  the  part  before  us  we  do  not  see  nmch  to  offend 
him.  Tlie  good  abbe  laments  the  decline  of  Catholicity,  and  the  blind- 
ness of  Rome  in  dealing  with  Oriental  matters;  names  Pascal  as  one  of 
the  great  lights  of  the  Christianity  of  the  West,  and  propounds  with  much 
confidence  his  crotchet  of  an  oecumenical  council,  to  which  the  Oriental 
schismatic  shall  be  invited  on  equal  terms,  being  the  panacea  for  the 
ills  of  the  Church.  His  notes  on  Eastern  monasticism  and  the  monks, 
as  the  true  enemies  of  Catholic  union,  are  curious  and  interesting;  but  the 
volume  does  not  contain  much  on  the  religious  question.  He  talks 
about  scenery  and  architecture  a  good  deal,  but  chieHy  about  his  own 
feelings  and  his  '^  priest's  heart,"  in  a  namby-yjamby  way,  copied  from 
Chateaubriand.  He  is  not  deficient  in  the  ability  to  write,  and  makes 
some  observations  which  cannot  fail  to  interest,  especially  at  the  present 
juncture  of  public  affairs.  The  following  is  his  testimony  concerning 
the  Turks.  ''  As  an  upright  and  peaceful  race  they  deserve  our  interest. 
We  see  that  they  try  to  do  right.  They  are  not  wanting  in  good  in- 
tentions, but  in  activity  and  energy.  The  look  of  the  Turk  is  mild,  and 
his  lips  soon  fall  into  a  smile.  He  is  silent,  like  a  man  of  no  ambition, 
no  care  about  the  future.  He  is  a  lover  of  justice,  and  an  observer  of 
hospitality,  like  all  Mussulmans.  His  trustworthiness  is  remarkable. 
In  the  great  cities  of  the  East  all  the  porters  are  Turks  ....  they  have 
never  been  known  to  betray  confidence  ....  They  are  the  most  peace- 
able of  men.  The  Turkish  soldier  walks  quietly  in  the  streets,  as 
uncomfortable  in  his  uniform  as  one  of  our  recruits  dressed  for  duty ; 
you  never  hear  from  the  men  any  cry  or  quarrelling:  they  never  ofter 
you  an  offensive  word,  or  a  malevolent  look.  I  compared  them  in  the 
streets  of  Jerusalem  to  good  seminarists,  observing  the  rules  of  clerical 
modesty.'' 

The  Bussian  Shores  of  the  Black  Sea  in  the  Autumn  of  lf^5'2,  by  Law- 
rence Oliphant  (Blackwood).  A  brilliant  book  of  travels,  the  most  in- 
teresting part  of  which  is  his  account  of  the  descent  of  the  Volga,  and  of 
the  Crimea.  The  author  seems  to  have  coloured  his  descriptions  a  little 
for  the  purpose  of  assisting  the  present  anti-Russian  excitement;  and  he 
rather  spoils  his  testimony  by  the  confession  of  his  utter  ignorance  of  the 
Russian  language  ;  but  his  revelations  are  startling,  and  if  not  true,  well 
invented.  We  must,  however,  do  him  the  justice  to  say,  that  we  have 
submitted  some  of  the  strongest  of  his  statements  to  a  native  Russian, 
who  owns  their  justice.     His  account  of  Russian  veracity  is  not  flatter- 


Short  Notices,  97 

ing,  and  shows  that  the  Czar  has  in  his  dominions  an  inexhaustible 
store  of  diplomats.  ''  Nothing,"  he  says  (p.  61),  "  bears  looking  into  in 
Russia,  from  a  metropolis  to  a  police-office ;  in  either  case  a  slight 
acquaintance  is  sufficient,  and  first  impressions  should  never  be  dis- 
pelled by  a  too  minute  inspection.  No  statement  should  be  questioned, 
however  ])reposterou?,  where  the  credit  of  the  country  is  involved  ;  and 
no  assertion  relied  upon,  even  though  it  be  a  gratuitous  piece  of  in- 
formation, such  as  that  there  is  a  diligence  to  the  next  town,  or  an  inn 
in  the  next  street.  There  is  a  singular  difficulty  in  getting  at  the  truth, 
j)robably  originating  with  subordinate  officials,  whose  duty  it  seems  to 
be  to  deceive  you,  and  whose  suj)port  is  derived  from  bribes  which  you 
give  them  for  "their  information.  Whatever  may  be  the  cause,  the  effect 
certainly  is  that  a  most  mysterious  secresy  pervades  every  thing;  and 
an  anxious  desire  is  always  visible  to  produce  an  impression  totally  at 
variance  with  the  real  state  of  the  case."  The  priesthood  is  profligate 
and  laz}^, — refusing  to  educate,  taking  no  steps  to  convert  the  heathen, 
and  preventing  any  other  religious  body  from  doing  so.  Society  at- 
tends to  hollow  conventioiialities,  without  respect  to  the  principles  of 
honour  and  morality  (p.  112).  Serfdom  is  as  destructive  of  marriage- 
chastity  as  slavery  in  America.  "  Our  captain  had  taken  his  wite  on  a 
lease  of  five  years,  at  a  rent  of  50  rubles,  with  the  privilege  of  renewal 
at  the  expiration  of  the  term"  (p.  97).  The  Cossacks  are  overrated  as 
soldiers,  disaffected  to  Russia,  cowardly  in  attack,  barbarous  and  cruel 
in  harassing  a  retreating  enemy.  The  fleet  of  the  Black  Sea  is  rotten, 
its  materials  being  green  pine  timber  and  not  seasoned  oak,  though 
government  pays  the  rascally  contractors  for  the  latter.  The  seamen 
work  on  shore,  and  are  sea-sick  in  a  storm.  Altogether,  if  we  are  to 
believe  the  testimony  and  opinions  of  Mr.  Oliphant,  the  Russian  power, 
as  it  at  present  exists,  is  a  bug-bear ;  but  if  allowed  to  get  Constantinople, 
she  will  hold  in  her  hands  the  liberty  of  Europe. 

A  Help  to  Devotion,  or  a  Collection  of  Novenas  in  honour  of  God 
and  of  His  blessed  Saints,  by  the  very  Rev.  Father  J.  B.  Pagani 
(Hiciiardson  and  Son).  The  title  of  this  book  sufficiently  explains  itself, 
and  the  author's  name  is  an  abundant  recommendation.  We  need  only 
say  that  the  work  is  divided  into  three  parts;  the  first  consisting  of 
novenas  to  be  used  before  holidays  commemorating  all  the  principal 
events  in  the  life  of  our  Lord ;  the  second  containing  a  number  of 
novenas  in  honour  of  our  Blessed  Lady  ;  and  the  third  devoted  to  all  the 
principal  Saints  in  the  calendar. 

Little  Ploys  jor  Little  People.  Beauty  and  the  Beast,  by  Miss 
Corner  (London,  Dean  and  Son).  Little  dramas  fit  for  representation 
by  children  have  long  seemed  to  us  quite  a  desideratum  in  our  litera- 
ture ;  and  we  have  especially  wished  to  see  some  of  our  current  nursery 
tales  dramatised  for  this  purpose.  It  is  now  ten  years  since  we  wit- 
nessed a  very  successful  performance,  by  a  party  of  little  girls,  of  that 
prettiest  of  our  fairy  tales,  Cinderella,  turned  into  a  play  in  blank  verse 
of  three  acts,  which  we  hope  some  day  to  see  published.  The  little  piece 
JDefore  us  is  intended  apparently  for  very  young  children,  and  for  them 
is  every  thing  that  can  be  desired  :  but  we  think  that  boys  and  girls  en- 
tering upon  their  teens  would  feel  the  dialogue  rather  too  meagre,  and 
the  whole  turn  of  the  piece,  as  well  as  the  run  of  the  verse,  somevvhatun- 
poetical,  considering  what  a  store  of  poetry  really  lies  hid  in  these  fairy 
tales.  For  nursery  representation,  however,  the  piece  is  quite  perfect, 
and  we  strongly  recommend  it  as  a  treat  for  the  Christmas  holidays. 

If  any  of  our  readers  are  in  doubt  how  to  spend  half-a-crown  in  a 


98  Short  Notices, 

New  Year's  gift  for  some  young  friends  or  relatives  to  whom  it  is  for- 
bidden to  give  any  thing  Catholic,  we  can  safely  recommend  them  Cat 
and  Dog ;  or,  Memoirs  of  Puss  and  the  Captain  (London,  Grant  and 
Griffith).  It  is  a  story  founded  on  fact,  very  amusinar,  perfectly  inno- 
cent, well  illustrated,  and  sure  to  be  popular  with  children. 

Older  children  will  find  great  entertainment  in  a  clever  collection  of 
fairy  tales  by  Mrs.  Bray,  entitled  A  Peep  at  the  Pixies;  or,  Legends  of 
the  West  (Grant  and  Griffith).  This  charming  little  volume  is  written 
in  a  graceful  style ;  and  the  scene  of  most  of  the  stories  being  laid  in  the 
middle  ages,  there  is  a  romantic,  legendary  character  about  it  very 
attractive. 

Ocean  and  her  Tiulers,  by  Alfred  Elwes  (Grant  and  Griffith),  is  a 
carefully  digested  narrative  of  the  several  nations  who  have  successively 
held  dominion  over  the  sea;  but,  unfortunately,  it  is  most  needlessly 
disfigured  by  divers  'Miits  at  Popery,"  the  author  being  apparently  a 
genuine  disciple  of  the  great  Protestant  tradition. 

Oakfield,  or  Fellowship  in  the  East  (Longmans),  is  rather  an  able 
but  absurdly  didactic  novel,  by  a  clever  but  somewhat  inexperienced 
Arnoldite,  who  commences  as  if  he  had  Loss  and  Gain  in  view,  and 
was  about  to  show  how  Oxford  was  as  disgusting  to  a  man  of  the  mo- 
dern Universalist  school  as  to  a  Catholic.  The  moral  inculcated  is  the 
weakness  of  all  "  orthodoxies  and  creeds  to  satisfy  the  interior  man;" 
the  sublimity  of  the  mission  '^  to  sow  truth  broadcast,"  without  having 
any  fixed  opinions  on  truth ;  and  the  absurdity  of  trying  to  civilise 
India  by  Christianity,  before  we  have  made  good  roads  and  cisterns, 
and  fostered  a  love  of  poetry  and  philosophy.  We  call  the  author  an 
inexperienced  Arnoldite,  because  he  still  believes  the  miracles  of  the 
Old  Testament.  We  rather  like  him  nevertheless,  because  he  seems 
in  earnest,  and,  for  all  that  appears  in  this  book  to  the  contrary,  in 
utter  ignorance  of  the  existence,  claims,  and  doctrines  of  the  Catholic 
Church. 

Dramas  of  Calderon,  tragic,  comic,  and  legendary.  Translated  by 
Denis  Florence  M'Carthy,  Esq.  (2  vols.  London,  Dolman.)  We  will 
not  at  present  do  more  than  call  our  readers'  attention  to  this  valuable 
addition  to  our  literature.  We  can  assure  all  lovers  of  true  poetry,  that 
they  will  derive  great  pleasure  from  a  study  of  these  volumes. 

Narrative  of  Travels  07i  the  Amazon  and  Rio  Negro,  by  A.  R.  Wal- 
lace. (London,  Reeve  and  Co.)  This  is  one  of  the  best  books  of  travels 
we  ever  read.  There  is  a  simplicity  about  the  narrative  which  capti- 
vates our  belief.  The  author's  personal  adventures  are  told  shortly, 
and  without  any  exaggeration  of  manner;  and  he  has  made  some 
important  contributions  to  our  knowledge  of  tlie  geography,  botan}-, 
zoology,  and  ethnography  of  central  South  America.  His  sketches  of 
the  natural  history  and  society  of  Brazil  are  life-like  and  animated  ;  the 
picture  that  he  gives  us  of  the  corruption  and  debauchery  of  the  Bra- 
zilian traders  is  horrible ;  but  the  shadows  are  compensated  by  the  vsim- 
plicity  and  hearty  piety  of  the  Negro  slaves  and  of  the  converted  Indians, 
of  whose  manners  the  author  gives  very  pleasing  sketches.  He  is  as 
little  prejudiced  against  Popery  as  a  man  can  be  wlio  ai)pears  totally 
indifferent  to  all  religions.  As  a  book  of  simjde  information  and  amuse- 
ment, we  heartily  reconjmend  it  to  our  readers.  It  is,  however,  a  pity 
that  a  book  of  so  high  a  class  should  be  illustrated  with  such  worthless 
engravings. 

Memoirs  of  an  ex-Capuchin,  by  Girolamo  Volpe  (Anglic^,  Jerome 


Short  Notices,  99 

Fox),  a  Converted  Priest.  These  memoirs  are  neither  true  nor  well- 
invented.  If  they  were  true,  there  is  notiiing  particidarly  scandalous 
in  them ;  but  internal  evidence  shows  that  they  have  been  "  freely  made 
up"  for  the  Exeter-Hall  market.  They  tell  us  of  one  Crespi,  an  in- 
genuous youth  of  fourteen,  whose  only  defect  was  an  innocent  game  of 
billiards  after  Mass  on  a  Sunday,  who  made  his  confession  to  a  Capu- 
chin, and  was  told  to  spend  his  Easter  in  perdition,  for  that  he  was  lost 
for  ever.  Crespi,  brought  up  in  the  Catholic  dogma  that  the  impre- 
cation of  a  priest  is  irrevocably  confirmed  in  heaven,  pined  in  silence  at 
his  sad  prospect,  but  at  last  suffered  his  secret  to  be  wormed  out  of  him 
by  his  anxious  mamma,  who  procured  him  another  interview  with  the 
friar.  His  reverence,  however,  only  repeated  his  senfence;  but  offered 
one  chance  of  escape,  if  Cresjji  would  become  a  Capuchin.  The  mother 
was  heart-broken,  the  boy  resigned.  The  noviciate  was  passed  ;  und 
its  trials  are  ludicrously  misinterpreted  in  the  narrative.  Tlie  professed 
friar  finds  that  even  in  the  convent  there  are  passions  and  sins ;  his  pure 
heart  revolts ;  and  at  last,  receiving  a  rebuff  from  his  superior  and  from 
the  Cardinal  of  Lyons  (whither  he  had  l)een  transferred),  he  publishes 
hi-*  grievances  iii  an  infidel  journal,  and  apostatises.  Our  readers  will 
easily  see  that  this  story  is  hardly  racy  enough  to  satisfy  tliose  who 
require  such  strong  excitement  as  Maria  Monk  furnislies.  Our  Fox 
twaddles  too  much  ;  he  should  have  put  a  dash  of  the  firebrand  into  his 
tale,  if  he  counted  on  damaging  the  harvest  of  the  Church  ;  in  divesting 
himself  of  his  native  russet,  and  clothing  himself  in  pure  white,  he  has 
drawn  very  near  to  the  comjjiexion  of  a  goose.  Whether  the  conversion 
is  unfeigned,  and  he  has  really  put  off  the  old  fox,  and  put  on  the  new 
goose,  or  whether  he  still  goes  with  a  fox's  heart  and  hide  beneath  his 
assumed  pluuiage,  of  course  we  cannot  say.  We  can  only  assure  him 
that  his  cackle  is  very  like  that  of  the  bird  of  the  Capitol.  If,  however, 
he  is  only  shamming,  we  can  easily  see  through  his  motive.  We  have 
heard  of  a  wolf  who,  by  assuming  slieep's  clothing,  assured  himself  of 
a  daily  dinner  of  mutton  from  the  fold;  a  fox  in  goose-feathers  might 
have  similar  pickings  from  Exeter  Hall,  as  Ciocci  seems  to  have  dis- 
covered. On  the  whole,  we  are  willing  to  leave  it  an  open  question 
whether  our  Volpe  is  a  fox  pure,  or  a  goose  pure,  or  the  wonderful 
compound  animal  known  to  the  classical  student  as  a  x'J""^'^'^^!)  or 
goose-fox. 

Luther :  a  succinct  Vieiv  of  his  Life  and  Writings,  by  Dr.  J.  Ddl- 
linger  (Richardson  and  Son),  is  another  addition  to  our  already  too 
numerous  catalogue  of  bad  translations;  not  so  bad,  indeed,  as  that  of 
which  we  spoke  at  length  in  our  last  Number,  yet  still  decidedly  bad. 
Each  sej)arate  word  (with  some  striking  exceptions,  however,)  may 
have  been  correctly  rendered  into  its  equivalent  English  word  ;  but  no 
attempt  lias  been  made  to  put  into  a  really  English  dress  the  endlessly 
involved  sentences  of  the  original  German.  The  consequence  is,  that 
many  parts  of  it  are  almost  unintelligible,  and  nearly  all  very  unplea- 
sant to  read.  The  difficulty  of  reading  it  is  also  increased  tenfold  by  the 
extreme  carelessness  of  the  punctuation.  The  work  of  art  which  forms 
the  frontispiece  of  this  little  book  is  worthy  of  the  pages  which  follow 
it.  A  coarse,  raaudlin-faced,  knock-kneed  figure  {not  in  the  pseudo- 
mediaeval  style)  brandishes  a  pair  of  keys,  and  looks  very  much  as  if 
she  were  dolefully  giving  them  up  to  the  custody  of  Luther.  Altogether, 
we  apprehend  that  the  whole  production  will  by  no  means  tend  to  alter 
the  unfavourable  opinion  once  expressed  to  us  by  Dr.  DdUinger  himself, 
on  the  want  of  sense  too  frequently  betrayed  by  translators. 


100  Short  Notices, 


FOEEIGN  LITERATURE. 

The  Abbe  Rohrbacher,  already  favourably  known  as  tlie  author  of 
a  valuable  History  of  the  Church,  is  now  engaged  on  an  equally  impor- 
tant and  scarcely  less  laborious  work,  Vies  des  Saints  pour  tous  les  jours 
de  VAnr.^c  (Gaume  Freres,  Paris).  At  present,  the  only  hagiography  in 
the  hands  of  French  Catliolics  is  that  of  our  own  Alban  Butler;  or,  as 
a  Frenchman  would  probably  tell  us,  of  Godescard,  who  translated  and 
made  some  additions  to  Alban  Butler's  work.  No  doubt  this  was  a  very 
great  improvement  on  what  th<^y  had  before,  Tillemont  and  Baillet ; 
at  the  same  time  it  was  only  natural  that  the  present  generation  of 
Catholics  should  feel  the  need  of  something  better  still,  and  we  think 
M.  Rohrbacher  is  precisely  the  man  who  can  best  supply  the  need. 
Indeed,  we  suspect  he  will  give  more  general  satisfaction  in  this  v/ork 
than  in  the  former.  For  whereas  students  are  often  disappointed  at  the 
somewhat  superficial  manner  in  which  delicate  and  difficult  questions 
are  handled  in  his  Church  History,  there  is  no  room  for  a  similar  com- 
plaint in  the  work  before  us.  A  free,  lively,  interesting  style  of  writing, 
and  an  accurate  narration  of  facts,  is  all  that  one  has  a  right  to  expect 
in  hiigiology,  intended  for  the  devout  reading  of  the  faithful.  We  do 
not  want  learned  disquisitions  and  subtle  criticisms,  but  graphic  de- 
scriptions and  a  truly  Catholic  spirit;  and  these  M.  Rohrbacher  un- 
doubtedly gives.  We  have  been  very  much  pleased  with  the  few  lives 
we  selected  to  read  by  way  of  specimen ;  and  it  would  not  surprise  us  if 
his  work  were  one  day  to  find  an  English  translator,  and  so  the  Church 
in  France  do  for  us  what  the  Church  in  England  has  done  for  the 
Catholics  of  France  during  the  last  quarter  of  a  century  and  more. 
Certainly,  if  we  are  to  live  upon  translations  and  not  upon  literature  of 
native  growth,  we  know  no  book  we  would  more  earnestly  recommend 
to  the  editors  of  Duffy's  *'  Young  Cliristian's  Library,'^  and  otlier  simi- 
lar publications.  It  is  thoroughly  Catholic,  written  in  a  popular  way, 
and  is  altogether  in  the  highest  degree  graphic  and  interesting.  We 
will  only  add,  that  tlie  work  will  be  completed  in  six  large  8vo  volumes, 
at  the  very  moderate  price  of  five  francs  a  volume,  and  that  three  of 
these  have  already  appeared. 

Etymologisches  Worterbiich  der  JRomanischen  Sprachen,  von  F. 
Diez.  Bonn,  1853.  (Etymological  Dictionary  of  the  Romanic  Lan- 
guages.) All  Catholics  who  have  thought  at  all  upon  Catholic  edu- 
cation must,  we  suppose,  admit  that  the  study  of  modern  languages  is 
far  more  important  to  Catholics  than  it  is  to  Protestants.  This  being 
so,  all  books  which  tend  to  facilitate  the  study  of  those  languages  to  a 
Latin  scholar,  and  to  save  him  from  a  cumbrous  load  of  self-evident 
observations  in  that  study,  are  useful.  The  grammar  of  most  modern 
languages  is  plain  and  straightforward  enough  to  a  man  who  has  a 
decent  acquaintance  with  Gieek  and  Latin.  But  the  words  often  puzzle 
such  a  man ;  because,  as  their  connection  with  known  Latin  roots  does 
not  strike  him,  they  go  in  at  one  ear  and  out  at  the  other.  Now, 
Diez's  new  dictionary  enables  a  person  acquainted  with  German  to 
trace  all  Italian,  French,  Provence,  Spanish,  and  Portuguese  words  to 
Latin  or  other  roots.  One  of  the  great  uses  of  the  study  of  languages 
as  a  mental  discipline,  is  the  facility  it  gives  of  tracing  analogies  ;  and 
tlie  modern  languages,  from  want  of  books  helping  to  such  a  use  of 
them,  had  become  scarcely  any  mental  discipline  at  all.     This  book, 


Short  Notices,  101 

then,  appears  to  us  a  vast  help  towards  making  them  so,  to  say  nothing 
of  its  purely  practical  uses.  It  will  rot  dispense  with  a  knowledge  of 
Latin;  but  it  makes  that  knowledge  a  means  both  of  gaining  mental 
discipline  and  of  facilitating  a  practical  acquaintance  with  those  lan- 
STuages  derived  principally  from  it.  Its  arrangement  is  good  ;  its  indexes 
clear  and  useable  ;  and  the  individual  articles,  for  the  first  book  of  the 
kind,  admirable.     We  wish  Diez  may  find  a  good  English  translator. 

Histoire  generate  des  Persecutions  de  V  Egllse,  par  P.  Belonino  (Pe- 
risse  Freres,  Lyon  et  Paris).  Some  idea  may  be  formed  of  the  probable 
extent  of  this  work,  when  we  mention  that  the  fifth  volume,  which  has 
just  been  published,  only  brings  down  the  history  to  the  middle  of  the 
fifth  century  (439  A. D.).  The  learned  author  does  not  satisfy  himself 
by  giving  a  mere  skeleton  history,  an  industrious  but  barren  collection 
of  facts  and  dates ;  he  endeavours,  as  far  as  passible,  to  throw  himself 
into  the  Sj)irit  of  the  times  of  which  he  writes,  and  embodies  the  re- 
marks of  the  saints  and  doctors  or  Catholic  historians,  who  have  in  dif- 
ferent ages  handled  these  matters.  Rejecting  the  miserable  criticism 
which  would  dress  up  St.  Ignatius  of  Antioch  in  the  garb  of  Herodotus, 
or  Tertullinn  in  the  idiom  of  Cicero,  he  gives,  wherever  it  seems  neces- 
sary or  desirable,  the  very  words  of  the  original  writers ;  and  his  pains- 
taking accuracy  may  be  relied  on.  The  spirit  in  which  the  work  is 
undertaken  may  be  summed  up  in  the  author's  own  words:  *'  L'Eglise 
llomaine  avant  tout,  par-dessus  tout,  voila  notre  symbole  en  fait  d'auto- 
rite.  Cela  nous  empecherat-il  de  deplorer  ce  que  les  malheurs  des 
temps,  et  certaines  necessites  arrachent  a  cette puissance  pleniere  qu'elle 
a  recue  d'en  haut  sur  toutes  les  questions  religieuses?  Evidemment  non. 
Les  concessions  (en  ce  qui  ne  touche  pas  au  dogme)  que  fait  sa  charite 
pour  eviter  de  plus  grands  maux,  sont  respectables  a  cause  de  la  source 
sainte  d'oii  elles  emanent,  mais  elles  sont  deplorables  en  elles-memes.'' 
We  are  happy  to  see  that  the  history  is  to  embrace  the  persecutions 
which  the  Church  has  endured  in  England,  Ireland,  and  Poland — a 
wide  and  plentiful  fiehJ.  We  may  add,  that  the  work  has  received  the 
sanction  of  several  of  the  French  bishops ;  and,  in  particular,  the  very 
warm  approbation  of  Monsignor  Parisis,  Bishop  of  Arras. 

MM.  Segnier  and  Bray,  in  Paris,  have  recently  published  a  Notice 
biographlque  sur  le  R,  P.  Newman,  par  Jules  Gondon  ; — a  sketch  which 
cannot  fail  to  be  interesting  to  every  English  Catholic ;  indeed,  we  may 
say,  to  every  Catholic  every  where.  But  English  Catholics  in  particular 
owe  M.  Gondon  a  deep  debt  of  gratitude  for  his  zeal  and  judgment  in 
the  matter  of  the  subscription  for  Father  Newman's  expenses  in  the 
Achilli  trial.  Few  are  aware  that  he  originated  and  organised  the  sub- 
scription in  France  while  lying  on  the  bed  of  sickness,  and  suflfering 
acutely  from  a  painful  and  tedious  illness. 

The  Conferences  delivered  in  the  Church  of  the  Gesu  at  Rome,  by 
Father  Passaglia,  of  the  Society  of  Jesus,  have  been  translated  into 
French  by  a  priest,  who  only  gives  the  initials  of  his  name,  and  are 
published  by  Gaume  et  Freres.  Mr.  Allies'  recent  admirable  work  on 
the  primacy  of  St.  Peter  has  familiarised  the  English  public  with  the 
name  of  this  great  theologian,  and  will  excite  their  interest  in  any  pro- 
duction of  his  pen.  We  can  promise  them  that  they  will  not  be  disap- 
pointed in  these  Conferences,  which,  unlike  those  of  Fathers  Newman 
and  Lacordaire,  are  more  especially  addressed  to  the  faithful  than  to 
those  who  are  as  yet  without  the  fold. 

The  same  publishers  have  given  us  during  the  i^ast  year  two  inte- 


102  Short  Notices. 

resting  volumes  by  Mdme.  E.  Benoit,  entitled  Victorin  de  Feltro^  nu  de 
V Education  en  Ital'ie  a  Vevoque  de  la  Ttenaiasancc.  The  sources  of  this 
life  have  bet^n  drawn  from  Carlo  de  Rosmini,  from  the  *'  Precis  histo- 
rique  de  la  Maison  de  Gonzague,"  and  from  Tiraboschi.  Tiie  author's 
object — to  transcribe  nearly  her  own  words — lias  not  been  to  write  a 
learned  work  on  Italy,  hut  to  construct  a  book  which  might  be  placed 
with  advantage  and  without  fear  in  the  hands  of  Christian  youth,  and 
wi)ich,  useful  to  children,  might  not  be  altogether  useless  to  their  pa- 
rents. A  considerable  portion  of  the  volumes  has  a  special  interest 
from  the  details  which  it  gives  concerning  Victorin's  relations  with 
the  family  of  Gonzaga;  a  famil}'  which  has  given  to  the  sacred  calendar 
one  of  its  brightest  youthful  ornaments. 

A  small  and  unpretending  volume,  styled  Correapondaiice  entre  un 
Pretre  Cnthollque  et  un  Minisfre  Calniniste,  o7i  la  Principe  fundamental 
de  la  Beforme  vingt  fois  demontre  insoutenable  et  fanr,  publislied  at 
Clement  Ferrand,and  sold  for  the  benefit  of  the  poor,  is  likely  to  attract 
considerable  attention.  The  Univers  has  already  devoted  several  columns 
to  a  review  of  it,  and  promises  to  continue  in  future  numbers  the  further 
consideration  of  its  subject  and  contents.  Two  Fathers  of  the  Company 
of  Jesus,  whose  names  we  learn  are  Burget  and  Gautrilet,  had  been 
preaching  the  jubilee  at  Florae,  a  little  town  of  Cevennes.  After  having 
done  all  in  their  power  for  the  Catholic  population,  their  charity  im- 
pelled them  to  make  some  efforts  for  the  benefit  of  their  Protestant 
larethren.  For  this  purpose  they  addressed  a  letter  to  some  of  the  most 
influejatial  Protestants  in  the  town,  not  with  the  view  of  raising  a  violent 
polemical  discussion,  but  of  paving  the  way  for  interviews  and  personal 
communications,  and  while  speaking  the  truth  in  love,  of  endeavouring 
to  overthrow  errors  and  disjiel  prejudices.  M.  Albaric,  the  most  dis- 
tinguished Protestant  minister  in  that  district,  undertook  the  cause  of 
his  brother  sectaries ;  and  the  result  was  a  voluminous  correspondence 
between  him  and  M .  Gautrilet,  special  circumstances  having  deprived 
that  Father  of  the  assistance  of  his  colleasfue  in  the  mission.  The  cor- 
respondence, therefore,  is  not  fictitious,  but  a  real  fact ;  the  letters  are 
printed  as  they  were  written,  and  as  they  were  read  by  the  townspeople 
at  the  time,  as  anj'  one  may  satisfy  himself  by  comparing  the  printed 
letters  with  the  originals.  The  volume,  which  consists  of  above  400 
pages,  is  approved  by  the  Bishop  of  Puy. 


Levey,  Robson,  and  Franklyn,  Great  New  Street  and  Fetter  Lane, 


Zijt  ^mnhltv. 


Part  II. 


CONTENTS. 


PACK 

Rkligious  Toleration  a  Question  of  First  Principles    .     103 

Our  Choirs:  what  they  are  and  what  they  might  be- 
come      .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .121 

Rites  and  Ceremonies.     No.  I.  Holy  Water     .         .         .     133 

Reviews. — Anecdotes  of  the  Roman  Republic.  La  Re- 
pubblic  Romana.  Appendice  ale'  Ebreo(di  Verona, 
Corretta  dale'  Autore  e  corredata  di  Note     .     .         .140 

English  and  Foreign  Historians  :  the  Massacre  of 
St.  Bartholomew.  Sir  James  Stephen's  Lectures 
on  the  History  of  France.  Ranke's  Civil  Wars  and 
Monarchy  in  France  in  the  Sixteenth  and  Seventeenth 
Centuries.  Prosper  Merimee's  Chronicle  of  the  Reign 
of  Charles  IX 150 

Dr.  Cahill's  Letter  on  Transubstantiation.  Letter 
of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Cahill  to  the  Rev.  J.  Burns,  Protestant 
Minister,  Whitehaven 169 

Napoleon  and  Sir  Hudson  Lowe.  Forsyth's  History 
of  the  Captivity  of  Napoleon  at  St.  Helena,  from  the 
Letters  and  Journals  of  Lieut.-Gen.  Sir  Hudson  Lowe, 
&c 178 

The  Religious  Census  of  England.  Census  of  Great 
Britain,  1851  :  Religions  Worship  in  England  and 
Wales 183 

Short  Notices: 

Theology,  Philosophy,  &c.    .         .          ,         .         •  190 

Miscellaneous  Literature    .....  193 

Foreign  Literature        ......  203 

VOL.  I. — NEW  SERIES.  I 


To  Correspondents. 

Correspondents  who  require  answers  in  private  are  requested  to  send 
their  complete  address,  a  precaution  not  always  observed. 

We  cannot  undertake  to  return  rejected  communications. 

Mr.  Smith's  letter  referring  to  our  remarks  on  the  Catholic  Directory 
was  received  too  late  for  insertion  in  the  present  Number.  It  shall  appear 
in  our  next. 

All  communications  must  be  postpaid.  Communications  respecting 
Advertisements  must  be  addressed  to  the  publishers,  Messrs.  Burns  and 
Lambert;  but  communications  intended  for  the  Editor  himself  should  be 
addressed  to  the  care  of  Mr.  Reader,  9  Park  Street,  Bristol. 


THE    RAMBLER. 
^  (![atl)0ltf  J0urttal  aitb  Hfntem. 

Vol.  I.  Few  Series.         FEBRUARY  1854.  Part  IL 


RELIGIOUS  toleratio:n^  a  question  of  first 

PRINCIPLES. 

The  antiquity,  the  universality,  the  very  reality  of  the  Church 
Catholic,  and  her  perfect  correspondence  in  every  respect  with 
her  paramount  claims  on  mankind  and  her  divine  mission  in 
the  world,  are  a  positive  disadvantage  to  her  when  she  is  ac- 
costed by  men  of  narrow  and  indiscriminating  views,  even  when 
possessed  of  ordinary  candour;  while,  in  the  hands  of  pre- 
judiced and  unprincipled  persons,  the  very  attributes  which  are 
the  clearest  notes  of  her  supernatural  character  are  capable  of 
being  dexterously  turned  to  her  discredit  and  apparent  confu- 
sion, when  the  object  is  to  exasperate  the  minds  of  the  multi- 
tude against  her. 

The  Church  has  had  many  outward  lives,  and  has  been 
placed  amid  circumstances  of  the  most  varied  kind.  She  has 
dwelt  among  people  of  every  clime,  and  been  associated  with 
systems,  and  institutions,  and  manners,  the  very  memory  of 
which  has  passed  away  from  the  popular  mind  ;  or  which  linger 
on  in  isolated  places,  or  in  forms  so  different  to  that  which  they 
originally  bore,  as  to  retain  no  resemblance  to  the  antiquated 
past.  How  easy,  then,  but  how  unfair,  to  transport  the  un- 
educated and  the  uninformed  to  scenes  and  times  so  unlike 
their  own,  and,  amidst  the  shock  which  their  senses  receive 
from  so  much  that  is  strange  and  uncongenial  to  them,  exhibit 
suddenly  before  their  bewildered  gaze  a  whole  order  of  facts, 
which  lie  beyond  the  range  not  only  of  their  experience,  but 
of  their  very  ideas,  and  leave  the  beholders  to  interpret  them 
by  modern  notions,  principles,  and  habits !  Even  in  indifferent 
matters,  and  with  the  best  advantages,  it  is  most  difficult  to 
throw  oneself  into  the  minds  of  those  who  lived  in  times  dis- 
tant from  our  own,  and  avoid  viewing  and  judging  of  the  past 
through  the  medium  of  the  present.     What,  then,  must  be 


i04  Religious  Toleration 

the  disadvantages  of  those  who,  like  the  generality  of  people, 
have  no  data  whereon  to  form  a  judgment, — no  rules  whereby 
to  measure  what  they  hear  but  such  as  their  every-day  life 
supplies ;  and  that,  too,  on  subjects  on  which,  owing  to  the 
pains  that  have  been  taken  to  distort  and  misrepresent  the  cir- 
cumstances of  the  case,  their  minds  are  not  free  to  receive  a 
true  impression  ?  It  is  plain  they  are  completely  at  the  mercy 
of  any  unscrupulous  person  who,  with  a  parade  of  learning 
and  candour,  should  profess  to  tell  them  what  happened  in  the 
days  before  they  were  born,  or  in  countries  they  have  never 
seen.  And  of  all  the  people  in  the  world,  an  Englishman  is 
the  most  easily  duped  in  this  way.  As  Father  Newman  has 
so  graphically  described  him,  "  He  lives  in  the  present  in  con- 
trast to  the  absent  and  the  past."  "  Surrounded  bj^  the  sea,  lie 
is  occupied  with  himself;  his  attention  is  concentrated  in  him- 
self, and  he  looks  abroad  with  reference  to  himself."  ..."  We 
look  on  what  is  immediately  before  us.  We  are  eminently 
practical ;  we  care  little  for  the  past.  We  resign  ourselves  to 
existing  circumstances;  we  live  in  the  present.  ...  In  truth, 
philosophy  and  history  do  not  come  natural  to  Protestantism ; 
it  cannot  bear  either.  It  does  not  reason  out  any  point;  it 
does  not  survey  steadily  any  course  of  facts.  It  dips  into  rea- 
son, it  dips  into  history;  but  it  breathes  freer  when  it  emerges 
again." 

Now  there  is  a  way  of  telling  lies  without  diverging  a 
hair'sbreadth  from  the  literal  truth.  Short  of  asserting  what 
is  absolutely  false,  it  is  easy  so  to  state  what  is  true  in  fact  as 
to  make  it  positively  false  in  effect.  Our  adversaries  are  per- 
fect adepts  in  this  art,  and  know  well  how  to  avail  themselves 
of  the  national  prejudices  against  us  to  render  its  exercise  emi- 
nently successful.  They  take  a  set  of  facts,  strip  them  of  their 
circumstances,  tear  them  up  root  and  fibre  from  the  soil  that 
gave  them  birth,  preserving  their  dimensions,  but  destroying 
their  proportions  and  severing  their  relations ;  and  thus,  in 
their  stark  nakedness,  hold  them  up  before  the  eyes  of  tlie 
people  as  a  proof  demonstrative  of  what  Popery  was  in  the 
days  of  its  power,  and  of  what  it  would  be  again  if  ever  it  were 
allowed  to  recover  its  ancient  ascendency.  "  Here,"  say  they, 
"  are  facts — broad,  patent,  unmistakable  facts."  They  chal- 
lenge us  to  a  denial.  "  Is  this  so,  or  is  it  not  ?"  they  ask  with 
an  air  of  triumph:  "yes  or  no."  It  is  in  vain  to  draw  dis- 
tinctions, to  go  back  to  first  principles,  or  to  appeal  to  other 
qualifying  or  even  opposing  facts ;  we  are  met  with  the  cry  of 
"  No  evasion  !  no  equivocation  !  no  special  pleading !  no  beat- 
ing about  the  bush!"  We  are  reminded  that  Englishmen 
love  straightforwardness ;  and  they  demand  a  plain  answer  to 


a  Question  of  First  Principles.  105 

a  plain  question.  To  the  multitude  the  conclusion  seems  as 
inevitable  as  that  two  and  two  make  four.  It  tallies  with  their 
preconceptions  ;  it  satisfies  their  reason ;  it  justifies  their  hatred 
of  us;  and  makes  it  a  righteous  and  respectable  thing  to  vilify 
and  persecute  us.  No  m.atter  what  principles  are  at  stake, — 
what  contradictions,  religious  or  moral,  are  involved  in  the 
result :  the  notion  of  the  day,  the  popular  conviction,  is  taken 
as  absolute  truth  ;  and  whatever  exceeds  or  contravenes  the 
same  is  held  to  be  radically  false  and  wrong.  Such  conduct, 
doubtless,  is  as  cowardly  and  immoral  as  it  is  unreasonable 
and  unphilosophical :  but  it  does  the  work  it  is  intended  to  do 
— it  forearms  men  against  the  claims  of  the  Church  of  Christ, 
and  obscures  the  notes  of  her  divine  origin. 

Our  remarks  have  been  intended  to  have  a  particular  ap- 
plication. We  have  on  more  than  one  occasion  discussed  the 
principle  on  which  Catholic  governments  have  proceeded  in 
the  punishment  of  heretics ;  and  as  the  question  of  religious 
persecution  is  one  which  has  more  than  usually  of  late  excited 
public  attention,  we  believe  that  we  owe  no  apology  to  our 
readers  for  introducing  the  subject  again  into  our  pages.  We 
are  the  more  induced  to  do  this,  because  some  expressions  we 
used  in  a  former  article  have  been  unfairly  wrested  from  their 
context,  subjected  to  a  private  interpretation  very  far  from 
tlie  writer's  intention,  and  made  the  theme  of  violent  declama- 
tion against  the  Catholic  body,  not  only  by  itinerant  agitators 
at  Protestant  gatherings,  but  in  an  **  honourable"  assembly, 
where  at  least  it  was  to  be  expected  that  speakers  would  ad- 
dress themselves  to  such  a  topic  with  some  show  of  moderation 
and  justice. 

In  the  first  place,  then,  they  who  believe  in  revelation,  and 
acknowledge  the  divine  authority  of  the  Jewish  law,  cannot 
deny  that  religious  intolerance — (we  purposely  use  the  ob- 
noxious phrase) — was  sanctioned,  or  rather  enjoined,  by  God 
Himself.  Offences  against  religion,  revolts  against  the  spiri- 
tual power,  were  punishable  with  death.  The  law  of  Moses, 
which,  whatever  questions  maybe  raised  as  to  the  comparative 
antiquity  of  its  constituent  elements,  so  far  as  the  Jews  were 
concerned  emanated  immediately  from  God,  knew  nothing  of 
*'  hberty  of  conscience"  (as  Protestants  profess  to  use  the  term), 
at  least  in  respect  to  its  own  subjects.  It  no  more  tolerated 
religious  dissent  or  spiritual  independence,  than  it  did  disobe- 
dience to  parents  or  rebellion  against  the  civil  ruler.  It  is 
needless  to  prove  this.  The  fact  is  plain  on  the  face  of  holy 
Scripture — as  plain  as  that  the  people  of  Israel  had  a  religion 
and  a  civil  constitution  ;  for  the  principle  lies  at  the  root  of 


106  jReligious  Toleration 

the  whole  system,  and  pervades  its  every  part;  and  the  infidel 
and  the  rationalist  make  it  one  of  their  primary  arguments 
against  the  divine  character  of  the  Mosaic  dispensation.  That 
dispensation,  indeed,  has  passed  away  for  ever, — the  law  of  love 
has  superseded  that  of  fear;  but  with  the  Bible  Christian,  the 
believer  in  revelation,  we  would  insist  most  strongly  on  this 
one  fact:  2i principle  sanctioned  and  enjoined  by  God  Himself 
cannot  be  a  wrong  principle.  It  may  not  be  always  applicable, 
or  always  expedient,  much  less  always  obligatory  in  its  fullest 
extent;  but  wrong  in  itself  it  cannot  be,  or  the  God  of  truth 
and  holiness  would  never  have  given  it  the  force  of  law.  It  is 
a  great  point  gained  to  make  our  adversaries  see  and  admit 
this;  in  fact,  once  concede  the  principle  of  what  is  called  reli- 
gious intolerance  to  be,  abstractedly,  not  wrong,  but  right,  and 
the  question  is  narrowed  to  this  very  simple  point, — whether, 
in  particular  instances,  it  was  justly,  mercifully,  or  expediently 
applied  and  enforced.  It  can  no  longer  excite  that  moral  dis- 
gust which  men  now  feel  at  the  bare  mention  of  the  thing ; 
nor,  we  may  add,  will  it  be  any  longer  available  as  a  theme  of 
anti-Popery  declamation.  If,  before  the  Exeter-Hall  orator 
commenced  his  fiery  harangue,  he  would,  with  the  same  im- 
pressive manner  wherewith  he  recites  some  garbled  version  of 
Papal  bull  or  canon  law,  read  out  to  his  eager  audience,  for 
their  first  half-hour's  meditation,  such  texts  and  whole  passages 
from  the  Pentateuch  and  other  portions  of  Holy  AVrit  as  we 
could  name,  we  suspect  that  the  effect  of  his  after  eloquence 
would  be  very  seriously  damaged  in  the  popular  estimation, 
and  that  his  craft  would  soon  entirely  cease. 

However,  we  are  willing  to  descend  from  this  high  posi- 
tion, and  meet  our  opponents  on  more  open  ground.  We  say, 
then,  that  the  principle  of  intolerance  is  universally  recognised; 
that  not  only  have  Protestants  and  infidels  acted  upon  it,  but 
that  they  still  act,  and  must  necessarily  act  upon  it ;  and  that 
the  main  difference — we  do  not  say  the  only  difference — be- 
tween them  and  Catholics  in  the  matter  is,  as  to  what  opinions 
and  practices  ought  on  the  one  hand  to  be  tolerated  and  pro- 
tected, and  on  the  other  to  be  proscribed  and  punished.  Uni- 
versal toleration  is  simply  an  impossibility  ;  it  never  has  been 
practised,  and  never  can  be.  Let  a  government  be  ever  so 
indulgent,  there  must  be  a  point  at  which  the  law  interferes 
to  prevent  certain  opinions  being  published  and  acted  upon. 
Every  government  recognises  some  first  principles  —  at  any 
rate,  it  is  possessed  with  the  instirict  of  stlf-preservation  ;  and 
without  coercion  —  in  other  words,  without  intolerance — no 
government  could  exist  a  day  or  an  hour.  Are  men  at  liberty 
to  denounce  the  rights  of  property,  or  to  decry  all  government 


a  Question  of  First  Principles,  107 

—  that  is,  in  fact,  to  preach  sedition,  anarchy,  and  universal 
confiscation?  Yet  these  are  questions  on  which  there  are 
those  who  have  what  they  call  their  moral  and  religious  con- 
victions. Why  are  not  these  convictions  to  be  respected  ?  Or, 
again,  are  men  at  liberty  to  set  at  defiance  all  the  laws  of 
modesty  and  morality  ?  Yet,  on  your  principles  of  toleration, 
what  right  has  a  government  to  make  its  notions  on  these  sub- 
jects obligatory  on  the  people  at  large  ?  Is  it  infallible  in  the 
matter  of  morals  ?  On  what  principle,  then,  does  it  coerce  the 
individual  conscience  by  its  arbitrary  decrees,  and  even  visit 
the  violation  of  them  with  disabilities  and  penalties  ?  With 
what  consistency  can  you  preach  up  universal  toleration,  and 
degrade  and  punish  me  for  following  my  own  moral  sense  of 
right  and  wrong  ?  Will  you  say  that  my  moral  sense  is  a  false 
and  perverted  one,  and  directly  opposed  to  the  commonest  prin- 
ciples of  morality,  and  to  the  general  interests  of  humanity  ? 
Then,  on  your  own  showing,  the  principle  of  toleration  —  this 
boasted  principle  which  is  to  establish  universal  peace  in  the 
world — is  also  opposed  to  the  commonest  principles  of  morality, 
and  to  the  general  interests  of  humanity.*  This  is  what  we 
set  out  to  show  :  the  principle  of  toleration  can  be  applied  only 
in  limited  measure.  Put  the  mark  as  low  as  you  please,  every 
government,  however  lax,  however  tolerant,  recognises  some 
first  principles  which  are  irreconcilable  with,  and  antagonistic 
to,  the  principle  of  toleration.  Let  this  idea  once  be  grasped, 
and  the  question  of  intolerance  will  assume  quite  another 
aspect. 

Protestant  states,  and  states  that  are  not  Christian,  punish 
offences  not  only  against  morality,  but  against  religion.  In 
this  country,  at  this  very  day,  there  are  punishments  for  cer- 
tain forms  of  blasphemy  and  impiety ;  there  are  penalties  for 
profaning  the  first  day  of  the  week,  which,  by  the  law  of  the 
land,  is  what  Catholics  call  a  "  holiday  of  obligation ;"  there 
are  statutes  which  invalidate  bequests  of  money  for  "supersti- 
tious uses."  A  few  years  ago  the  open  sale  of  avowedly  infidel 
books  would  have  been  prevented,  and  their  vendors  punished 
with  fine  and  imprisonment.  We  question  whether,  at  the 
present  day,  the  law  would  be  allowed  to  take  its  course  ;  but, 
little  more  than  two  years  ago,  an  Irishman  was  fined  for  pub- 
licly burning  a  copy  of  the  Protestant  Bible ;  not  from  disre- 
spect to  the  holy  Scriptures,  but  out  of  an  impetuous  zeal  for 
their  genuineness  and  purity.  These  instances  are  quite  suf- 
ficient to  prove  that  even  this  Protestant  country  recognises 
and  acts  upon  the  principle  of  religious  intolerance,  however 

*  See  Balmez,  "  Protestantism  compared  with  Catholicity,"  chap.  xxxv. 


108  Religious  Toleration 

infrequent  and  exceptional  may  be  its  application  in  practice. 
Indisputable  it  is  that  certain  opinions,  certain  acts  and  uses 
relating  to  religion,  are  prohibited  and  visited  with  penalties 
— punished,  in  short  —  even  in  this  land  of  religious  freedom. 
There  are  certain  matters  connected  with  religion  and  morality 
in  which  the  law  knows  nothing  of  private  judgment  or  liberty 
of  conscience.  Of  course  it  must  be  so,  as  we  have  said.  Every 
government  recognising  any  first  principles,  whether  in  mo- 
rality or  in  religion, — every  government  proceeding  on  the  sup- 
position, if  not  on  the  belief,  that  certain  doctrines  are  abso- 
lutely true,  or  at  least  expedient  to  be  observed  as  true,  and 
therefore  made  obligatory  on  society  at  large, — is,  and  must 
be,  intolerant  towards  those  who  reject  and  oppose  them  ;  nay, 
in  a  measure,  towards  those  who  do  not  profess  and  practise 
them.  It  must  interfere  with  people's  freedom  of  thought 
and  action — that  is  to  say,  with  the  freedom  of  expressing 
their  thoughts,  and  putting  them  into  execution;  and  truth, 
reason,  justice,  policy  alone  can  determine  when  and  how  far 
that  interference  is  necessary,  or  equitable,  or  expedient,  in 
particular  instances.  Toleration,  after  all,  is  but  a  question 
of  what  shall  be  tolerated,  and  how  far  it  shall  be  tolerated. 
Governments  punish  religious  offences — or,  to  use  the  popular 
language,  persecute  —  according  to  what  they  regard  as  first 
principles.  Take,  for  instance,  the  law  of  marriage.  It  is  a 
first  principle  with  all  Christian  governments  that  a  man  can 
liave  but  one  wife.  Bigamy,  therefore,  is  punished  as  well  by 
Protestants  as  by  Catholics;  adultery  likewise,  as  being  an 
offence  against  morality,  or  at  least  opposed  to  the  true  inte- 
rests of  the  family  (which  is  the  basis  on  which  society  reposes), 
is  amenable  to  the  law,  and  visited  with  pecuniary  penalties ; 
and  in  Protestant  countries  it  is  deemed  sufficient  justification 
for  the  dissolution  of  the  marriage-tie.  Not  so,  however, 
among  Catholic  populations,  where  the  matrimonial  bond  is, 
in  accordance  with  the  divine  precept,  pronounced  to  be  indis- 
soluble. So,  again,  in  Protestant  countries,  religious  vows, 
however  solemnly  made,  and  ratified  by  ecclesiastical  authority, 
are  held  to  be  not  binding;  so  that  the  marriage  of  a  priest  or 
a  religious  is  as  valid  and  as  *' honourable"  as  any  other  in  the 
eye  of  the  law,  though  before  the  Catholic  Church  it  is  no 
marriage  at  all,  but,  on  the  contrary,  a  sacrilegious  concubin- 
:age,  and  an  offence  of  the  same  class  as  is  adultery  or  bigamy. 
Here,  then,  we  have  a  difference  in  first  principles.  Protes- 
tant states  punish  for  bigamy,  but  dispense  from  the  marriage- 
vow,  and  allow  of  divorce  and  re-marriage  —  discountenance 
adultery,  but  sanction  and  approve  the  breaking  of  vows  of 
religion ;  whereas  Catholic  states  maintain  the  absolute  indis- 


a  Question  of  First  Principles,  109 

solubility  of  marriage  when  validly  contracted,  and  the  obliga- 
tory force  of  religious  vows  (except  when  dispensed  by  the 
ecclesiastical  authority),  and  consequently  punish  the  violation 
of  both  one  and  the  other  with  such  penalties  as  the  law  in 
each  particular  country  may  provide ;  so  that,  should  a  monk 
or  a  nun,  the  subject  of  a  Catholic  power,  while  sojourning  in 
England,  contract  what  in  the  eye  of  the  English  law  was  a 
valid  and  sufficient  marriage,  and  return  to  their  own  country, 
that  contract  would  be  no  contract  at  all :  their  religious  vows 
would  still  be  as  binding  upon  them  as  ever ;  and  they  might 
be  punished  for  sacrilege,  just  as  if  in  a  Protestant  country 
they  had  committed  the  offence  of  bigamy.  So,  also,  a  person 
who,  under  similar  circumstances,  should  put  away  his  wife, 
and  take  to  himself  another  woman,  would,  in  the  eye  of  the 
Church  and  of  Catholic  law,  simply  be  living  in  adultery.  His 
marriage  would  be  no  marriage  at  all,  but  a  disgraceful  con- 
cubinage— a  crime  against  God  and  society,  a  mortal  sin  ;  and 
he  might  be  liable  to  punishment  for  profaning  the  sanctity  of 
the  marriage-tie. 

Of  course,  to  the  Protestant  this  appears  very  hard  and 
intolerant,  and  he  cries  out  against  the  superstition  and  the 
slavery  of  so  antiquated  a  system  ;  but  what  would  he  say  to 
the  Turk  who  should  declaim  with  equal  vehemence,  as  he 
might  as  reasonably  do,  against  the  laws  of  this  Protestant 
country  ?  If  it  is  intolerant  in  tlie  Catholic  to  prohibit  di- 
vorce, and  punish  the  violation  of  the  vow  of  celibacy,  why  is 
it  not  intolerant  in  the  Protestant  to  make  the  marriage-bond 
indissoluble  (except  in  one  particular  case),  to  allow  but  one 
wife  at  a  time,  and  to  punish  for  bigamy — that  is,  for  the  vio- 
lation of  the  vow  of  matrimony  ?  "  On  what  principle,'^  he 
might  ask,  "  do  you  boast  of  your  religious  freedom,  and  sneer 
at  the  Catholic  for  his  narrowness  and  bigotry  ?  We  truly  are 
the  enlightened  people.  We  know  nothing  of  laws  against 
divorce,  or  punishments  for  bigamy  or  trigamy  either;  we 
have  as  many  wives  as  we  will,  and  allow  no  interference  in 
the  matter."  But  our  argument  will  carry  us  further  than  the 
Turk.  Free  as  the  Mahometan  may  be  in  this  matter  of 
marriage,  there  is  a  people  whose  habits  of  life  are,  if  fame 
does  them  no  wrong,  still  more  unshackled — a  people  who  are 
migrating  in  hundreds  from  their  native  land,  to  seek  on  a 
foreign  shore  the  more  perfect  liberty  which  is  denied  them 
at  home.  The  Mormonites,  it  is  said,  are  more  than  poly- 
gamists — more  heathenish  than  the  heathen.  They  live  as  do 
the  beasts;  and  adultery  and  promiscuous  concubinage  are  to 
them  the  habitual  and  the  honourable  conditions  of  domestic 
relationship.     Well :    as  the  Mormonite  and  the  Mahometan 


110  Beligiotts  Toleration 

are  to  the  Protestant  in  this  matter,  so  is  the  Protestant  to  the 
Catholic.  The  Catholic  is  stricter  and  more  intolerant  than 
the  Protestant,  because  his  first  principles  are  stricter  and 
more  intolerant — or,  as  we  should  say,  higher  and  holier  — 
more  purely  moral  and  more  truly  religious ;  in  other  words, 
more  Christian.  The  Protestant,  again,  who  in  the  matter  of 
marriage  has  retained  a  portion  of  the  old  Catholic  belief,  is 
stricter  and  more  intolerant  than  the  Momionite  or  the  Maho- 
metan, because  his  first  principles  are  stricter  and  more  in- 
tolerant. 

If  we  were  asked  to  give  a  definition,  or  to  state  one  of  the 
main  characteristics  of  bigotry,  we  should  say  that  it  was  the 
condemning  a  man  for  acting  on  his  own  first  principles  in- 
stead of  those  we  ourselves  avow  ;  the  expecting  him  to  be- 
lieve one  thing  and  to  do  another.  Protestants,  being  Chris- 
tians, punish  the  violation  of  such  Christian  laws  as  they  hold 
to  be  binding  on  society,  or  which  they  consider  necessary  for 
the  moral  and  social  well-being  of  the  commonwealth.  In  like 
manner.  Catholics  punish  the  violation  of  such  Christian  laws 
as  they  hold  to  be  binding  on  society,  or  w^hich  they  cojisider 
necessary  for  the  moral  and  social  well-being  of  the  common- 
wealth. To  the  Protestant  polygamy  is  an  impiety,  to  the 
Mahometan  it  is  not ;  so,  to  the  Catholic  the  violation  of  the 
religious  vow  is  an  impiety,  to  the  Protestant  it  is  not.  And 
so  in  other  things.  Catholics  have  punished,  and  still  punish, 
where  reason  and  justice  so  direct,  what  they  believe  to  be  im- 
piety and  blasphemy;  not,  of  course,  what  Protestants  con- 
sider impiety  and  blasphemy,  for  they  have  not  the  faith  or 
the  religious  instincts  of  Catholics  ;  and  we  say  it  is  folly  and 
bigotry,  it  is  every  thing  that  is  narrow  and  stupid,  to  expect 
a  Catholic  to  act  on  Protestant  principles,  as  narrow  and 
stupid  as  it  would  be  to  expect  a  Protestant  to  act  on  Maho- 
metan principles.  We  say  nothing  here  of  the  truth  of  the 
one  set  of  principles  or  the  other.  All  we  assert  is,  that  tole- 
ration is  a  relative  thing  ;  that  intolerance,  in  some  shape  or 
other,  is  inseparable  from  every  religion  and  every  form  of 
government ;  and  that,  a«  a  matter  of  fact,  Protestants  punish 
(or  persecute)  outrages  upon  their  own  first  principles,  just  as 
Catholics  do  the  violations  of  theii-s. 

Now,  the  great  Catholic  first  principle,  which  Protestants 
deny, — the  denial  of  which,  indeed,  constitutes  the  very  essence 
and  first  principle  of  Protestantism, — is,  that  the  Church  Ca- 
tholic is  the  divine  authoritative  teacher  of  mankind  in  all  that 
concerns  religion  ;  and  that  religion  itself  is  a  matter,  not  of 
opinion,  but  of  faith.  Catholics  believe,  in  short,  that  what 
the  Church  teaches  is  the  very  truth  of  God ;  and  that,  like 


a  Question  of  First  Principles,  111 

God  Himself,  that  truth  is  one  and  one  only — one  and  indivi- 
sible. This  truth,  this  faith,  is  to  them  as  certain,  as  indis- 
putable, and,  we  may  say,  as  habitually  self-evident  a  thing  as 
right  and  wrong  are ;  or,  in  other  words,  as  are  those  first 
principles  of  morality  which  Protestants  happily  still  in  a 
measure  hold  and  enforce.  Protestants,  as  we  have  said,  pro- 
hibit and  punish  the  violation  of  these  principles  of  morahty; 
and  Catholics  also  prohibit,  and  under  circumstances  punish, 
the  violation  of  the  principles  of  faith.  Catholics  have  a  wide 
field  of  opinion,  in  which  they  are  at  liberty  to  range  to  and 
fro  as  they  will ;  and  so  long  as  a  man's  opinions  do  not  en- 
trench on  the  region  of  faith,  he  enjoys  as  perfect  liberty  as 
even  a  Protestant  could  desire.  But  if  he  violates  faith,  he 
violates  Catholic  first  principles ;  and  if  he  lives  in  a  purely 
Catholic  country,  and  his  offence  is  an  open  and  scandalous 
one,  he  becomes  as  amenable  to  the  laws,  as  does  a  Protestant 
who  violates  such  Protestant  first  principles  as  are  recognised 
and  upheld  by  the  laws  of  his  country.  The  Catholic  princi- 
ple of  faith,  being  something  over  and  above  the  Protestant 
principle  of  morality  and  religion,  creates,  of  course,  an  addi- 
tional class  of  offences;  just  as  the  Protestant  principle  of 
morality  and  religion,  being  something  over  and  above  that  of 
Mahometans  and  Buddhists,  or  other  infidel  races,  creates  an 
additional  class  of  offences.  To  the  Catholic,  heresy  is  not  an 
error  of  judgment  merely  (though  it  may  be  so  in  certain  ex- 
ceptional cases),  but  the  breach  of  a  divine  first  principle — an 
outrage  upon  absolute  truth ;  therefore,  in  punishing  its  pro- 
pagators and  abettors,  he  does  not  punish  men  (as  the  phrase 
goes)  for  errors  of  opinion,  but  for  an  offence  against  faith. 
It  is  a  necessary  and  inevitable  consequence  of  his  possessing 
what  Protestants  have  not — an  authoritative  teacher  and  a 
definite  creed. 

This  it  was  that  lay  at  the  bottom  of  mediaeval  legislation 
against  heresy  and  heretics.  Ere  the  principle  of  private 
judgment  was  substituted  for  that  of  divine  faith,  and  conse- 
crated as  the  axiom  of  a  new  species  of  religion,  a  denial  of 
the  doctrines  of  the  Church  was  felt  to  be  simply  a  revolt 
against  the  truth  and  authority  of  God.  Living  as  they  did 
in  the  full  light  of  revelation,  and  endued  with  a  gift,  a  fa- 
culty, in  the  supertiatural  order  analogous  to  that  of  reason 
or  sight  in  the  natural  order,  the  men  of  those  days  (like 
Catholics  in  all  times  and  all  countries,  whatever  be  the  phase 
of  society  or  civilisation  by  which  they  are  surrounded)  were 
possessed  of  an  idea,  a  principle,  a  perception,  the  realisation 
and  exercise  of  which,  to  Protestants,  who  have  not  the  same 
objects  before  their  mind's  vision,  seems  mere  superstition  and 


112  Religious  Toleration 

fanaticism.  Their  standard  was  higher,  their  instincts  were 
keener  and  purer  in  all  that  concerned  divine  truth.  They 
did  not  tolerate  heresy  from  the  same  motives  that  Protestants 
do  not  tolerate  the  more  heinous  forms  of  blasphemy  and  im- 
piety. Whatever  reasons  the  Protestant  now  gives  for  not 
enduring  certain  crimes  against  religion  and  morality,  of  the 
same  kind,  though  far  deeper  and  more  consistent,  were  and 
still  are  the  Catholic's  reasons  for  not  enduring  certain  crimes 
against  faith  and  morals.  If  Protestants  had  a  livelier  and 
stronger  sense  of  the  truth  and  sacredness,  and  the  obligatory 
force,  even  of  such  doctrines  of  Christianity  as  they  think  they 
hold,  they  would  be  more  earnest  in  maintaining  them  invio- 
late than  they  are.  Their  tolerance  is  the  offspring  of  indif- 
ference and  unbelief,  not  of  charity  toward  God  or  of  love  for 
men's  souls.  If  they  were  more  jealous  of  the  divine  honour, 
they  would  resent  insults  and  outrages  upon  it  as  industriously 
and  as  effectually  as  they  now  resent  attacks  upon  property  or 
public  security.  We  do  not  mean  merely  that  Protestant 
governments  would  punish  vice  and  immorality,  irreligion  and 
impiety,  to  a  greater  extent  than  they  actually  do,  but  that 
the  people  —  society  at  large — would  have  a  higher  standard 
and  a  stricter  rule ;  and  that  they  would  not  endure  to  have 
God  blasphemed,  and  His  laws  set  at  nought,  in  the  way  they 
now  are,  any  more  than  they  endure  to  have  public  decency 
outraged,  or  the  Queen's  majesty  insulted,  or  the  national  in- 
dependence threatened. 

But  another  reason  of  toleration  at  the  present  day  is,  that 
Protestants  have  no  dogmas.  It  is  their  boast  that  their  reli- 
gion is  a  religion  of  free  inquiry;  that  they  are  seekers  after 
truth,  which  implies  that  the  truth,  absolute  truth,  as  yet  they 
have  not  found.  Anyhow,  whatever  remnants  of  old  Catholic 
doctrines  they  still  retain,  and  however  impossible  in  practice 
their  theory  of  private  judgment  and  uncontrolled  liberty  of 
conscience  may  be,  they  have  as  a  matter  of  fact,  and  as  the 
result  of  their  loose  principles  and  their  loss  of  faith,  reduced 
their  religious  belief  to  the  very  lowest  point  at  which  it  can 
be  said  to  constitute  in  any  true  sense  a  belief  at  all.  They 
have  very  few  doctrines  which  they  could  state  in  any  definite 
or  dogmatic  form — very  few,  therefore,  to  be  zealous  about. 
Of  course,  then,  they  are,  or  at  least  they  ought  in  consistency 
to  be,  more  tolerant;  and  yet  they  take  credit  to  themselves 
for  their  liberality  towards  those  who  differ  from  them  !  After 
making  every  article  of  the  Creed  an  open  question,  and  turn- 
ing faith  into  mere  opinion,  they  count  it  an  actual  merit  in 
themselves  that  they  make  no  difference  between  truth  and 
error ;  and  that  so  far  from  punishing,  they  patronise  and  up- 


a  Question  of  lirst  Principles,  113 

hold  what  Catholics  regard  as  heresy  and  blasphemy.  This  is 
really  the  whole  truth  of  the  matter  :  Protestantism,  in  prin- 
ciple and  in  its  last  resort,  is  simply  infidelity ;  and  men  can- 
not consistently  discountenance  or  punish  the  rejection  of  vvliat 
they  do  not  themselves  receive.  Here,  for  instance,  in  this 
Protestant  country,  toleration  is  no  virtue  on  the  part  of  those 
who  practise  it  :  it  is  a  social  necessity.  Among  so  many 
and  such  discordant  sects,  how  is  it  possible  for  one  to  domi- 
neer it  over  the  rest,  set  up  its  own  tenets  as  the  only  standard 
of  divine  truth,  and  proscribe  the  tenets  of  others?  The  state 
of  society  is  such  that,  for  very  peace  and  comfort's  sake,  the 
widest  latitudinarianism  in  religion  is  the  only  theory  that  will 
work.  The  people  have  no  one  religion,  therefore  the  govern- 
ment can  have  no  one  religion ;  and  the  very  existence  of  an 
established  church  is  an  anomaly  and  an  injustice. 

It  was  not  so  in  the  ages  of  faith.  Then  (as  now  in  purely 
Catholic  countries  where  Protestantism  is  unknown)  the  rulers 
and  the  ruled  were  of  one  mind  in  the  matter ;  the  same  con- 
victions animated  all  alike.  Heresy  was  universally  held  to  be 
a  crime,  and  it  was  suppressed  with  the  popular  consent.  Tims 
the  punishment  of  heresy  was  not  only  politically  possible,  but 
even  in  the  estimation  of  Protestants,  and  English  Protestants 
in  particular — to  whom  public  opinion,  that  is,  the  will  of  the 
generality,  or  even  the  majority,  is  law  and  equity — it  must 
be  regarded  as  reasonable  and  just.  Catholics,  of  course,  judge 
the  whole  question  on  different  grounds ;  but  anyhow,  it  is  a 
fact  that,  in  their  non-toleration  of  heretics.  Catholic  govern- 
ments were  supported  by  the  cordial  and  unanimous  approval 
of  the  people.  Nor  was  it  matter  of  conviction  only,  firm  and 
deep-seated  as  that  conviction  was  ;  but  the  faith  of  the  Church 
was  the  base,  nay  the  living  unitive  principle,  of  the  whole 
existing  order  and  relations  of  things ;  so  that  to  disturb  that 
faith  was  to  shake  the  foundations  on  which  all  government 
and  society  itself  reposed,  and  to  weaken  and  disorganise  the 
very  functions  of  political  and  social  life.  European  civilisa- 
tion, European  jurisprudence,  was  the  creation  of  the  Catholic 
Church.  Europe  was  Christendom,  and  Christendom  was 
Catholic ;  and  the  nations  that  formed  the  great  European 
family  were  fused  and  blended  together,  in  spite  of  national 
prejudices  and  antipathies,  into  one  vast  confederation  or  com- 
monwealth, under  the  supreme  headship  of  the  Pope,  by  the 
habitual  force  of  a  common  faith,  and  one  universal  system  of 
polity  and  law.  How  different  then  the  whole  state  of  society 
to  any  thing  of  which  the  world  has  had  experience  since  the 
fatal  revolt  self-styled  the  Reformation,  and  how  unreason- 


114  Religious  Toleration 

able,  how  unfair,  to  interpret  the  acts  of  Catholic  governments 
of  that  day  by  the  principles  and  notions  of  Protestant  times ! 

For,  observe  what  was  involved  in  this  state  of  things.  He- 
resy was  not  a  merely  speculative  error,  or  an  offence  against 
religion  in  the  abstract;  it  was  also  a  political  crime.  It  was 
not  only  an  outrage  on  the  one  universal  belief,  and  a  positive 
violation  of  the  common  law  of  Europe ;  but  it  struck  at  the 
root  of  all  authority,  and  at  the  very  principle  of  law  itself. 
This  it  was  that  armed  the  temporal  governments  against  it; 
they  saw  in  it  the  very  essence  of  disaffection  and  revolution. 
Nor  can  Protestants  dispute  their  sagacity,  or  accuse  them  of 
intolerance.  Protestant  governments  ere  now  have  proscribed 
the  Cathoh'c  religion,  and  persecuted  its  priests  and  professors 
to  the  death ;  and  their  apologists  have  defended  and  justified 
their  conduct  on  the  score  of  state  necessity  and  the  disloyalty 
of  those  against  whom  their  violence  was  directed ;  nay,  to 
this  very  day  we  have  penal  enactments  passed  amidst  the  ac- 
clamations of  a  nation  for  the  better  security  and  maintenance 
of  "our  Protestant  institutions  in  Church  and  State."  If, 
then,  it  be  a  political  aggression  to  do  aught  which  indirectly 
and  in  its  remote  results  may  militate  against  the  Protestant 
character  of  a  country  whose  Catholic  citizens  are  numbered 
by  the  million,  that  surely  was  of  a  revolutionary  and  anarchic 
tendency  which  aimed  directly  at  the  subversion  of  the  whole 
fabric  of  European  society — at  a  time,  too,  when  the  malcon- 
tents in  religion  might  be  counted  by  units — which,  in  fact, 
sought  nothing  less  than  the  destruction  of  the  old-established 
Catholic  governments,  and  the  erection  of  an  entire  new  order 
of  things  upon  their  ruins. 

Now  this  is  what  Protestants  themselves  boast  that  the 
so-called  Reformation  actually  effected.  It  brought  about  a 
European  revolution.  Protestantism  from  the  outset  was  not 
a  mere  change  of  religious  conviction,  or  a  revolt  against  the 
principle  of  faith  in  the  abstract;  it  was  an  innovation,  an 
aggression  upon  an  authority  and  a  whole  constituted  order  of 
things  which  had  existed  from  time  immemorial,  and  was  in- 
timately and  vitally  connected  with  every  germ  and  fibre  of 
the  social  system.  Of  course,  therefore,  it  was  encountered 
and  resisted  with  all  the  repressive  means  which  policy  and 
the  very  instinct  of  self-preservation  suggested.  "  Protestant- 
ism," says  Ranke,  **  included  in  its  very  existence  the  moving 
causes  of  a  most  exasperating  and  formidable  struggle ;  for 
the  questions  it  affected  were  not  merely  ecclesiastical,  but — 
on  account  of  the  intimate  connexion  subsisting  between  the 
Church  and  the  State,  upon  which  the  whole  system  rested — 


a  Question  of  First  Principles,  115 

in  the  highest  degree  political  also."  It  could  not  but  involve 
such  results,  being  what  it  was;  this,  so  far,  is  its  excuse  for 
its  political  aggressiveness;  but  it  was  also  its  aggravation  in 
the  eyes  of  the  governments  of  that  day  ;  and  this  again  is  a 
fact  to  be  taken  into  account  in  judging  of  the  measures  which 
were  adopted  for  its  suppression. 

But  Protestantism  was  not  aggressive  merely  in  this  in- 
evitable and  necessary  way.  It  was  not  content,  as  the  Pro- 
testant historian  we  have  quoted  fairly  admits,  when  it  had 
gained  toleration,  nor  when  it  had  secured  to  itself  an  equality 
of  rights;  what  it  sought  and  endeavoured  to  obtain  by  force 
was  ascendency.  Nothing  less  would  satisfy  it.  And  when 
it  had  gained  the  ascendency,  how  did  it  acquit  itself?  We 
shall  look  in  vain  for  any  of  that  generous  regard  for  the  rights 
of  conscience,  or  the  liberty  of  the  subject,  which  its  present 
adherents  claim  as  the  crowning  glory  of  the  new  Gospel  it 
proclaimed  :  no,  the  Protestants  of  the  Reformation  ruthlessly 
oppressed  and  persecuted  the  Catholic  populations  when  they 
had  got  them  into  their  power ;  deprived  them  of  every  privi- 
lege they  possessed  ;  proscribed  their  religion,  and  degraded 
its  professors  to  a  state  of  serfdom  as  dishonouring  as  it  was 
irremediable,  except  at  the  price  of  apostasy.  It  was  the  ex- 
perience of  this,  as  they  saw  it  before  their  eyes  and  at  their 
very  doors,  which  urged  the  Catholic  governments  of  that  day 
to  stay  the  inroad  of  the  new  heresy  with  every  weapon  and 
appliance  which  the  laws  supplied.  That  they  proceeded  in 
the  work  of  repression  with  immoderate  severity,  and  at  times 
with  unnecessary  cruelty,  we  have  not  the  smallest  wish  to 
deny.  The  governments  that  so  acted  were  not  animated 
with  any  remarkable  zeal  for  religion  ;  they  were  not  actuated 
by  "  Ultramontane"  principles ;  on  the  contrary,  they  were, 
without  exception,  what  Protestants  themselves  have  styled 
**  Anti-PapaP  governments ;  and  their  conduct  was  often  wor- 
thy of  the  strongest  reprobation.  The  punishment  of  heresy 
was  used  by  them  as  an  engine  for  state  purposes,  and  by 
means  of  a  system  of  wholesale  slaughter,  which  the  mind 
shudders  to  contemplate,  became  in  their  hands  nothing  less 
than  downright  persecution.  The  Church,  as  such,  whatever 
individuals  might  do,  so  far  from  countenancing  these  acts  of 
cruelty,  invariably  opposed  and  protested  against  them,  as  the 
more  candid  Protestant  historians  have  allowed.  Our  remarks 
are  directed  solely  to  the  elucidation  of  the  principle  on  which 
the  Church  lent  its  sanction  to  the  civil  power  in  the  sup- 
pression of  heresy,  and  we  are  by  no  means  concerned  with 
the  application  of  the  principle  by  particular  governments  and 
at  particular  times.     This  only  we  will  say,  that  the  examples 


116  Religious  Toleration 

which  were  set  and  the  provocations  which  were  given  by  the 
Protestants  in  every  nation  of  Europe  are  quite  sufficient  to 
account  for  the  treatment  they  received  from  their  Catliohc 
rulers,  and  for  the  hatred  with  which  they  were  regarded  by 
the  Catholic  populations  ;  but  of  this  we  may  have  occasion  to 
speak  in  a  subsequent  Number. 

One  motive,  however,  there  was  for  the  treatment  which 
heretics  received,  which  falls  strictly  within  the  limits  to  which 
we  have  confined  ourselves  in  the  present  article,  and  to  which 
attention  cannot  be  too  often  called ;  for  it  is  most  intimately 
connected  with  the  subject  in  hand.  We  have  laid  much 
stress  on  the  fact  that  a  formal  difference  is  to  be  observed 
between  the  Catholic  and  the  Protestant  religion,  inasmuch 
as  the  former  is  essentially  a  dogmatic  religion,  a  definite 
faith ;  the  latter,  at  most,  but  a  speculative  and  affective  re- 
ligion, a  scheme  of  opinions.  But  this  is  far  from  being  the 
whole  difference  between  the  two.  In  the  Catholic  religion 
there  are  certain  mysteries  which  are  not  merely  matters  of 
doctrine  or  objects  of  faith,  but  actual  realities  of  the  most 
awful  import — the  objects  of  worship.  Such,  above  all,  is  the 
adorable  presence  of  Jesus  Christ  in  the  most  Holy  Eucharist. 
It  is  not  merely  a  Catholic  doctrine  that  He  is  sacramentally 
present ;  it  is  a  divine  fact.  As  truly  as  the  eternal  God  be- 
came incarnate  for  us,  so  truly  is  He  really  and  substantially 
present  with  us  on  our  altars  ;  and  that  which  we  call  the 
Blessed  Sacrament  is  not  the  figure  or  the  emblem  of  Him, — 
it  is  Himself,  the  Second  Person  of  the  Undivided  Trinity,  who 
was  born  of  the  Virgin  Mary.  The  Protestant,  then,  who  re- 
viled, ridiculed,  and  blasphemed  the  most  Holy  Sacrament,  in 
the  estimation  and  belief  of  every  Catholic,  vented  his  ribaldry 
and  impiety,  not  upon  a  doctrine  only,  but  upon  the  very  Per- 
son of  God  incarnate.  The  Protestant,  however,  did  not  stop 
at  this,  shocking  and  irritating  beyond  endurance  as  such  con- 
duct would  be ;  his  rage  and  his  hatred  extended  to  the  Divine 
Object  Itself.  Not  only  did  he  take  delight  in  profaning  the 
sacerdotal  vestments,  the  consecrated  vessels,  and  whatever 
was  connected  with  the  tremendous  mysteries, — even  on  occa- 
sion striking  down  the  priest  of  God  while  ministering  at  His 
altar;  but  he  was  seized  with  a  fiendish  desire  to  outrage  the 
most  Holy  Sacrament  Itself,  and  to  perpetrate  every  manner 
of  abomination  against  It.  Every  where  It  was  the  chief  object 
of  attack.  To  Catholic  hearts  it  seemed  as  if  the  propagators 
of  the  new  heresy  sought  to  renew  against  Jesus  in  His  Sacra- 
ment of  Love  the  ignominies  and  the  outrages  of  which  the 
Jews  had  made  Him  the  object  in  His  adorable  Passion.  The 
feelings  such  atrocities  excited  were  therefore  correspondingly 


a  Question  of  First  Principles,  117 

intense.  It  is  not  possible  to  exaggerate — it  is  not  possible 
for  Protestants  adequately  to  conceive — the  horror,  indigna- 
tion, and  anguish  which  these  outrages  caused  (and  must  ever 
cause)  in  the  breasts  of  the  faithful.  To  the  multitude  no 
punishment  seemed  too  great  for  crimes  so  diabolical ;  and 
hence  the  torments  amidst  which  the  wretched  men  were  put 
to  death  produced  little  or  no  commiseration  in  the  surround- 
ing crowds.  Add  to  which,  that  the  modes  of  punishing  male- 
factors in  those  days,  among  both  Catholics  and  Protestants, 
were  of  a  far  more  barbarous*  character  than  they  have  gradu- 
ally since  become, — another  fact  which  ought  to  be  borne  in 
mind  in  connection  with  this  subject.  However,  Protestants 
in  their  religious  system  have  nothing  in  the  smallest  degree 
analogous  to  these  distinctive  mysteries  of  the  Catholic  faith ; 
nothing,  therefore,  the  violation  of  which  could  call  forth 
similar  feelings  of  indignation  and  distress.  Catholics,  of 
course,  then  as  now,  were  fully  aware  that  their  Lord  was 
perfectly  impassible  in  His  sacramental  presence,  and  that 
none  of  the  atrocious  outrages  committed  against  Him  could 
really  touch  His  Sacred  Person  ;  still,  these  outrages  (con- 
sidered objectively)  were  as  truly  directed  against  Him — the 
One  Supreme  Object  of  their  love  and  worship — as  if  they 
could ;  and  Catholics  felt  as  we  hope  Protestants  themselves 
would  have  felt  had  they  seen  their  Saviour  in  the  hands  of 
the  Roman  soldiers  or  Herod's  "  men  of  war."  This  is  the 
only  comparison  which  is  any  adequate  representation  of  the 
dreadful  reality. 

But,  besides  this,  there  were  other  enormities,  of  which 
Protestants  ought  to  be  able  to  form  some  just  conception  ; 
as,  for  instance,  revolting  blasphemies  against  the  Blcs^cu 
Virgin,  whom  Catholics  regard,  not  merely  as  a  very  "  pious 
woman,"  but,  through  the  mystery  of  the  Incarnation,  the 
very  Mother  of  the  Eternal  God  ;  profanations  of  her  image, 
as  well  as  that  of  her  Divine  Son,  whether  as  an  Infant  in  her 
arms,  or  as  dying  on  the  cross  for  the  redemption  of  the  world. 
Protestants  would  sufficiently  understand  the  import  and  the 
exasperating  character  of  these  outrages,  if  they  reflected  what 
their  own  feelings  would  be  if  the  picture  or  image  of  some 
one  whom  they  loved  and  venerated,  say  that  of  the  Queen,  or 
an  honoured  parent,  or  a  dear  and  valued  friend,  were  simi- 
larly treated  ;  perhaps  daubed  with  filth,  or  battered  to  pieces, 
or  committed  to   the  flames  with  every  mark  of  scorn  and 

*  It  should  never  be  forgotten  in  considering  this  feature  of  the  times,  that 
our  own  English  code,  at  a  period  long  subsequent  to  the  Reformation,  was  one 
of  the  bloodiest,  if  not  the  very  bloodiest,  in  Europe,  and  remained  unaltered  till 
a  very  recent  date. 

VOL.    I. — NEW  SERIES.  K 


MS  Religious  Toleration 

hatred,  before  their  eyes;  and  their  very  names,  and  what 
they  call  their  "  memories,"  reviled  with  the  coarsest  and  most 
loathsome  epithets  that  a  wanton  malice  could  invent.  If  they 
considered  but  for  one  short  moment  who  Jesus  is,  and  that, 
being  who  He  is,  He  has — not  only  had,  but  has — a  motherj 
they  might  rise  to  something  like  a  due  estimation  of  the  feel- 
ings with  whicli  Catholics  regarded,  and  must  ever  regard,  the 
violence  of  iconoclasts  when  directed  against  a  Crucifix  or  a 
Madonna. 

Now,  we  repeat,  Protestants,  who  have  none  of  those  per- 
sonal feelings  about  our  Lord  and  His  Virgin  Mother  which 
Catholics  have,  and  whose  ver}'  religion,  as  we  may  say,  con- 
sists in  disowning  and  protesting  against  the  Sacramental  Pre- 
sence of  the  one  and  the  high  prerogatives  of  the  other,  have 
no  right,  in  all  fairness  and  consistency,  to  judge  the  proceed- 
ings of  Catholics  by  what  their  own  would  have  been  under 
this   particular  provocation.     They  ought  rather  to  consider 
what  their  conduct  w'ould  be  if  they  were  similarly  outraged 
and  provoked.     Suppose,  for  instance,  the  disciples  of  Tom 
Paine  were  to  publish  abroad  their  blasphemies  against  God 
and  the  Bible,  and  to  placard  the  very  walls  with  the  coarsest 
indecencies  against  the  Saviour  of  mankind  ;  or  the  Jew  were 
publicly  to  rail  at  Him  as  an  impostor  ;  or  the  Socinian  to 
deride  His  Divinity  w'ith  the  same  revolting  particularity  of 
illustration  with  which  the  orators  of  Exeter  Hall  denounce 
the  "mummeries  of  Popery"  and  the  "  idolatry  of  the  Mass;" 
or  suppose  the  Catholics  of  this  country  were  to  unite  in  openly 
decrying  and  declaiming  against  the  supremacy  of  the  Queen 
in  civil  matters,  or  should  even  take  to  mutilating  the  "  Lion 
ZvA  the  Unicorn"  in  the  churches;  with  what  sort  of  equa- 
nimity would  "Englishmen  and  Protestants"  regard  sayings 
and  doings  such  as  these  ?     Would  not  the  whole  nation  be 
roused  to  fury  ?    Would  not  the  government  make  quick  work 
of  the  whole  matter,  and  visit  on  the  offenders  the  severest 
penalties  of  the  law  ?    Even  Protestant  England,  then,  for  all 
its  liberality,  or,  as  we  should  say,  for  all  its  latitudinarianism, 
would   not   tolerate — how  could  it  ? — a  violation  of  its  first 
principles.     Those  principles,  it  is  true,  are  looser  and,  in  a 
sense  therefore,  more  comprehensive  than  Catholic  first  prin- 
ciples ;  but  this  is,  as  we  have  said,  no  merit  on  the  part  of 
this  or  any  other  Protestant  country.    Protestants, — it  cannot 
be  too  often  repeated  when  the  subject  of  religious  intolerance 
is  under  discussion, — persecuted  as  long  as  they  could  with 
safety  to  the  state.     "  They  have  never  once,"  as  Father  New- 
man observes,  "  acted  on  the  principles  they  profess — never 
once ;  for  they  cannot  produce  their  instance  when  Protest- 


a  Question  of  First  Principles,'  119 

ants,  of  whatever  denomination,  were  in  possession  of  national 
power  for  any  sufficient  time,  without  persecuting  some  or 
other  of  their  polemical  antagonists.  So  it  has  been,  so  it  is 
now."  There  is  this  essential  difference  also  to  be  observed 
between  Protestants  and  Catholics  :  Catholics  have  never 
punished  Protestants  as  such — that  is,  for  being  Protestants, 
but  for  apostatizing  from  the  faith ;  not  for  changing  their  r  j- 
ligious  opinions,  as  the  Protestant  phrase  is,  but  for  wilfully 
perverting  and  blaspheming  the  truth  of  God,  obstinately 
persisting  in  their  heresy,  and  seducing  others  from  the  true 
Church.  The  same  cannot  be  said  of  Protestants.  When 
they  have  persecuted  Catholics,  they  have  persecuted  them  for 
being  Catholics,  and  remaining  Catholics;  for  holding  what  to 
Protestants,  who  have  neither  dogmas  nor  Church,  are  but 
opinions  different  from  their  own,  and  refusing  to  abandon 
them.  Here  in  England,  for  instance,  they  proscribed  the 
profession,  not  of  any  new  and  upstart  religion,  but  of  the 
ancient  faith,  which  had  existed  from  time  immemorial,  and 
was  bound  up  and,  as  it  were,  identified  with  all  the  institu- 
tions of  the  country  and  the  most  cherished  associations  of  the 
people.  They  fined,  imprisoned,  and  put  to  a  horrible  death 
our  Catholic  ancestors,  because  they  held  to  the  religion  of 
their  fathers,  and  would  not  give  it  up  at  the  bidding  of  kings 
and  parliaments. 

This  is  an  important  distinction,  and  one  which  suffices  to 
repel  a  very  common  accusation.  Our  adversaries  are  always 
saying,  that  if  Catholics  ever  got  the  upper  hand  again  in  the 
country,  they  would  punish  Protestants  as  heretics.  But  they 
cannot  produce  a  single  precedent  in  proof  of  the  assertion. 
Of  course,  individuals  would  not  be  allowed  to  blaspheme  and 
outrage  the  religion  of  the  nation  when  Catholic,  any  more  than 
they  are  now  allowed  to  blaspheme  and  outrage  it  being  Pro- 
testant. They  would  not  be  permitted,  doubtless,  to  jeer  at 
the  Blessed  Sacrament,  or  to  insult  the  Blessed  Virgin,  or 
to  burn  the  Pope  in  effigy,  any  more  than  Catholics  are  now 
permitted  to  burn  the  Protestant  Bible  in  public,  or  to  revile 
any  thing  or  any  body  which  the  nation  holds  in  honour  and 
veneration.  As  well,  therefore, — or  rather,  as  we  have  just 
said,  with  far  more  reason, — might  ive  assert  that  if  Protestant- 
ism ever  regained  the  sort  of  domination  it  once  possessed,  it 
would  repeal  the  Emancipation  Act,  re-impose  the  Test  Act, 
re-enact  the  penal  laws,  and  renew  against  us  the  old  persecu- 
tions from  which  we  suffered  from  Elizabeth  downwards,  or 
such  as  are  still  in  vogue  against  Catholics  in  Sweden  or  in 
Mecklenburg.  The  assertion  is  simply  unsupported  by  facts, 
or  it  is  a  mere  truism.  So,  the  Mormonites  might  argue  that 
if  they  returned  to  the  Protestantism  of  the  old  country,  indi- 


\20  ReUgioiis  Toleration, 

viduals  would  no  longer  enjoy  the  privilege  of  promiscuous  con- 
cubinage ;  or  the  Turks,  if  they  turned  Christians,  that  they 
would  no  longer  be  permitted  to  practise  polygamy,  but  that 
even  bigamy  would  become  a  felony  and  a  "  transportable 
offence." 

It  must  be  so,  from  the  very  nature  of  things.  So  far, 
therefore,  as  the  allegation  has  aught  of  truth  in  it,  it  is  as 
applicable  to  Christianity  in  general  as  to  Catholicity  in  par- 
ticular ;  but,  as  commonly  employed  against  the  latter,  it  is 
a  simple  calumny.  The  Church  has  never  forced  her  laws 
upon  temporal  governments  ;  hoiv  indeed  could  she  ?  When 
her  laws  have  been  adopted  and  enforced  by  the  secular  power, 
it  has  been  done  at  the  instance  of  the  governments  themselves, 
naturally  and  of  their  own  accord,  and  with  the  acquiescence 
of  the  people. 

"A  state,"  says  Dr.  Arnold,*  "may  as  justly  declare  the  New 
Testament  to  be  its  law,  as  it  may  choose  the  institutes  and  code  of 
Justinian.  In  this  manner  the  law  of  Christ's  Church  may  be  made 
its  law  ;  and  all  the  institutions  which  this  law  enjoins,  whether  in 
ritual  or  discipline,  may  be  adopted  as  national  institutions  just  as 
legitimately  as  any  institutions  of  mere  human  origin.  The  question, 
then,  which  is  sometimes  asked  so  indignantly, — Is  the  government 
to  impose  its  religion  upon  the  people  ?  may  be  answered  by  asking 
again, — Is  the  government  to  impose  its  own  laws  upon  the  people  ? 
.  .  .  We  need  not  be  afraid  to  say  that,  in  a  perfect  state,  the  law 
of  the  government  would  be  the  law  of  the  people  ;  the  law  of  their 
choice,  the  expression  of  their  mind." 

The  principles  we  have  laid  down  are  sufficient  to  account 
for,  and,  we  will  say,  to  justify,  the  resistance  offered  by  Catho- 
lic states  at  the  present  day  to  the  introduction  of  Protestant- 
ism among  their  subjects;  but  of  all  the  motives  that  might 
be  assigned  for  this  exclusiveness,  we  need  mention  only  one, 
— that  of  self-defence.  The  following  little  history  bears  so 
strongly  on  this  point,  and  is  so  instructive  a  commentary  on 
the  theory  of  religious  toleration  as  professed  by  Protestants, 
that  it  will  form  no  inapt  conclusion  to  the  present  remarks : 

*'  In  1633,  two  hundred  English  Catholic  families  fled  from  the 
religious  persecution  which  pressed  heavily  upon  them  in  the  bosom 
of  their  own  country.  Crossing. the  Atlantic,  they  fixed  themselves 
in  Maryland,  under  the  direction  of  Lord  Baltimore.  .  .  .  The 
settlers  did  not  long  enjoy  the  jDcace  and  liberty  of  conscience  which, 
at  so  great  a  sacrifice,  they  came  to  seek  in  tlie  forests  of  America. 
Around  them  were  thousands  of  the  reform  sects,  which  had  origi- 
nally been  established  in  these  countries  under  the  protection  of 
Great  Britain  and  Holland.  Whilst  inflicting  on  each  other  penal- 
tics  and  ostracism,  they  made  common  cause  in  banishing  the  Catho- 

•  Appendix  to  Inaugural  Lecture  on  Modern  History,  pp.  41,  42. 


Our  Choirs,  121 

lies.  The  young  colony  of  Baltimore  had  exhibited  to  the  New 
World  a  solitary  example  of  Christian  charity  by  granting  an  asy- 
lum and  equality  of  rights  to  the  oppressed  of  every  creed.  But, 
strange  to  say,  this  generous  hospitality  was  repaid  with  ingratitude 
by  those  whom  it  sheltered.  Received  into  Maryland  as  brothers, 
the  Protestants  thronged  thither  in  such  numbers  that  tliey  were 
very  soon  the  masters ;  and  the  first  use  they  made  of  their  pre- 
ponderance was  to  interdict  that  religion  which  alone  had  had  com- 
passion on  their  misfortunes.  The  settlement  of  Baltimore  was  not 
yet  of  twenty-five  years'  standing,  and  already  the  Catholics  beheld 
themselves  deprived  of  their  civil,  religious,  and  political  rights.  A 
band  of  strangers  recently  proscribed  (by  their  co-religionists)  con- 
fiscated the  property  of  their  hosts,  hunted  down  their  priests  as  if 
they  were  noxious  animals  ;  and,  in  order  to  degrade  the  confessors 
of  the  faith,  imposed,  at  the  entry  of  every  Irishman  who  had  left 
his  country  that  he  might  remain  faithful  to  his  God,  the  same  tax 
as  that  for  the  importation  of  a  negro  !  .  .  .  .  So  that,"  writes 
Mr.  M'Mahon,  the  Protestant  historian  of  Maryland,  "  in  a  colony 
founded  by  Catholics,  and  which  had  acquired  under  the  govern- 
ment of  Catholics  power  and  prosperity.  Catholics  alone  became  the 
victims  of  religious  intolerance."* 


OUR  CHOIRS :   AVHAT  THEY  ARE,  AND  WHAT  THEY 
MIGHT  BECOME. 

The  age  in  which  we  live  may  well  be  called  a  musical  age. 
It  has  many  other  characteristics;  but  this  is  an  especial  one, 
which  strikes  the  eye  and  ear  alike  of  every  moderately-observ- 
ant person.  Take  up  any  newspaper,  London  or  provincial, 
and  you  will  find  not  only  announcements  of  concerts,  but 
notices  of  new  societies  for  the  study  of  vocal  or  instrumental 
music ;  go  into  any  company,  and  you  will  very  likely  be  asked 
to  join  some  music-class.  Be  your  tastes  or  religious  prin- 
ciples what  they  may,  you  will  find  something  adapted  to  your 
wants  on  one  side  or  the  other.  The  congregationalist  has  his- 
chapel-class  for  metrical  psalmody,  the  low  churchman  his 
hymn-book  and  music-master,  the  Anglo-Catholic  his  Gre- 
gorian tones  and  "  services,"  with  precentor  and  choir-boys; 
while  if,  like  very  many,  in  the  exercise  of  your  birthright 
as  a  Briton,  you  choose  none  of  these  things,  and  use  music 
for  its  own  sake  alone,  there  are  glee-clubs,  madrigal  societies, 
and  choral  classes  without  end,  to  suit  your  taste. 

Amusing,  however,  or  instructive,  as  it  might  be  to  trace. 

*  Annals  of  the  Propagation  of  the  Faith,  vol.  xi.  p.  257. 


122  Our  Choirs: 

the  growth  of  public  opinion  in  matters  musical,  to  watch 
the  gradual  advance  of  sound  principles  of  criticism  and  taste, 
to  smile,  it  may  be,  at  the  follies  and  eccentricities  which 
accompany  and  spring  from  that  rapid  progress, — excesses 
which  themselves  bear  witness  to  the  great  life  within, — and 
in  and  through  all  to  see  the  nation  urging  its  claim,  and  gra- 
dually having  that  claim  allowed,  to  take  its  place  high  in  the 
musical  world  ;  —  our  present  object  is  to  touch  upon  the 
subject  in  one  of  its  phases  only;  and  that,  from  a  practical 
rather  than  a  critical  point  of  view,  viz.  the  class  of  persons 
who  sing  in  our  church  choirs,  their  fitness  for  their  office,  and 
the  means  of  supplying  acknowledged  deficiencies. 

In  dealing  with  this  question  there  is  this  great  advantage, 
that  few,  if  any,  doubt  of  its  importance,  and  the  urgent  neces- 
sity there  is  for  its  careful  consideration  Men  may  perhaps 
differ  as  to  the  way  in  which  existing  evils  are  to  be  remedied; 
but  none,  who  have  eyes  to  see  and  ears  to  hear,  can  hesitate 
to  confess  that  evils  there  are,  and  that  it  behoves  us  to  be  up 
and  stirring  ere  things  get  worse.  Now  this  is  in  itself,  if  not 
a  step  in  the  right  direction,  at  any  rate  a  proof  of  willingness 
to  move  on  when  the  right  step  is  plainly  pointed  out,  and  the 
true  direction  shown.  It  is  a  great  thing  to  get  people  to  see 
and  feel  that  an  evil  is  an  evil.  There  are  so  many  influences 
to  enthrall  us  in  an  existing  state  of  things ;  custom  does  so 
much  to  reconcile  us  to  what  we  have  seen  for  years,  while  a 
natural  vis  inertice  makes  us  most  unwilling  to  open  our  eyes 
and  see  things  as  they  really  are,  when  such  awaking  in- 
volves the  necessity  of  exertion  and  toil  in  remedying  the  evils 
before  us.  Now  this  point,  w^e  feel,  has  been  already  gained. 
Go  where  you  will,  and  ask  what  is  the  state  of  the  choir  in  any 
church ;  and  will  not,  in  almost  every  case,  the  evil  we  have 
to  speak  of  be  acknowledged  by  priests  and  people  alike  ? 
Who  is  satisfied  with  things  as  they  are  ?  Of  course,  there  are 
some  exceptional  cases,  as  there  will  always  be,  in  which 
people  wilfully  blind  their  eyes  to  evils  they  know  not  how  to 
lemedy,  or  in  which  (rare  indeed!)  the  choir  is  in  such  a  state 
that  there  is  no  evil  to  be  got  rid  of,  no  abuse  to  remove ;  but 
in  almost  every  case  the  evil  is  confessed,  and  a  remedy  is 
desired. 

What  this  evil  is,  may  be  stated  in  a  few  words.  Our 
choirs  are  composed  of  persons  utterly  unfitted,  in  most  im- 
portant respects,  for  the  duties  they  have  to  discharge  ;  many 
of  their  duties  they  cannot  perform  at  all ;  while  others,  which 
are  within  their  power,  they  do  not  understand,  and  so  per- 
form amiss. 

Now  let  it  not  be  supposed  that,  in  what  we  are  saying,  we 


ivhat  they  arc,  and  what  they  might  become.  123 

are  making-  any  attack  upon  choir-singers ;  it  is  their  misfor- 
tune rather  than  their  fault  that  they  are  unfitted  for  duties 
for  which  they  have  not  had  the  necessary  training;  nor  can  it 
be  justly  interpreted  as  blame  to  say  that  they  do  not  under- 
stand what  no  one  has  taken  the  trouble  to  explain  to  them. 
Many  of  our  choir-singers  we  know,  from  personal  observa- 
tion, to  be  very  respectable  and  honourable  members  of 
society,  who  behave  themselves  with  all  propriety  in  church, 
and  by  their  conduct  give  no  scandal  elsewhere.  Many  of 
them  are  quite  conscious  of  their  own  deficiencies  in  matters 
of  which  we  have  yet  to  speak,  and  doubtless  would  gladly 
avail  themselves  of  any  instruction  which  might  be  afiforded 
them  therein.  It  is  no  fault  of  theirs  that  matters  are  as 
they  arc. 

Again,  it  may  frankly  be  acknowledged  that,  in  many 
cases,  there  is  no  reason  for  finding  fault  with  their  singing; 
as  far  as  their  numbers  will  allow,  they  do  justice  to  the  Mass 
music  with  which  they  are  familiar  ;  and  so,  as  members  of 
the  musical  profession,  they  may  justly  be  said  to  fulfil  their 
duties ;  whence  it  is  evident  that  no  blame  attaches  to  them 
for  the  dissatisfaction  which  is  so  generally  felt  at  the  present 
state  of  our  choirs. 

What,  then,  is  the  evil  of  which  we  complain  ?  Wherein 
are  our  singers  unfitted  for  their  office,  if,  as  we  have  just 
said,  there  is  no  fault  to  be  found  with  their  singing  ?  What 
right,  it  might  be  said,  have  we  to  require  more  than  singing 
from  singers  ?  To  this  we  reply,  that  under  ordinary  circum- 
stances we  require  no  more  than  this :  that  in  a  concert-room 
we  look  to  them  for  good  singing  and  nothing  more ;  but  the 
case  is  very  different  when  the  singer  enters  a  church  choir; 
for  then  he  has  to  take  part  in  holy  functions;  he  is  no 
longer  a  mere  singer,  but  a  minister  of  holy  Church,  and 
therefore  it  is  that  we  are  bound  to  ask  questions  which  else- 
where would  be  beyond  our  province ;  therefore  it  is  that  we 
are  in  conscience  bound  to  raise  objections  to  the  employment 
of  singers  who,  in  another  place  and  under  other  circum- 
stances, would  be  unobjectionable  enough. 

Now,  surely,  the  very  first  inquiry  should  be  one  which, 
strange  to  say,  but  too  often  seems  never  to  be  made  at  all :  Is 
the  person  we  propose  to  introduce  into  our  church  choir  a 
Catholic?  This,  we  say,  is  the  very  first  question  to  be  asked; 
for  what  musical  skill,  what  gift  of  voice  can  compensate  for 
the  absence  of  the  one  faith  ?  There  can  be  no  need  of  argu- 
ment upon  this  point — there  cannot  be  two  opinions  on  the 
matter.  No  one  can  defend  the  enormity  of  putting  heretics 
.and  schismatics  to  sing  the  peoples  part  in  the  highest  and 


1^4  Our  Choirs: 

holiest  functions  of  our  religion.     It  needs  only  to  be  stated, 
for  its  gross  irreverence  to  be  felt.     Make  the  case  your  own, 
and  undertake  the  explanation  of  it  to  a  stranger — perchance 
to  one  who  seems,  by  God's  grace,  tending  towards  the  True 
Faith.     Tell  him  that  those  w^ho  sing  so  sweetly  the  music  of 
the  Church  are  not  the  Church's  children :   never  mind  the 
start  he  gives,  and  the  inquiring  glance  he  turns  upon  you,  but 
go  on,  and  explain  more  fully  that  the  words  they  utter  are,  in 
their  mouths,  a  lie ;    that  the  Creed  they  sing  they  do  not 
believe ;  that  when  they  bow  lowly  at  *'  Et  incarnatus  est,"  it 
may  be  that  they  are  Socinians,  who  deny  the  mighty  mystery; 
that  when  they  kneel  before  Incarnate  God,  elevated  on  the 
altar,  they  kneel  in  mockery,  like  those  who  once  cried  to  Him, 
**  Hail,  King  of  the  Jews."  Go  on,  if  you  have  heart  to  do 
so, — go  on,  and  tell  him  that  these  are  they  to  whom  you 
intrust  the  Church's  Litanies  and  Benediction  Hymns;    that 
these  disbelievers  are  paid  to  sing  the  *'Pange  lingua"  in  pro- 
cessions of  the  most  adorable  Sacrament,  and  to  follow  the 
image  of  our  Blessed  Lady  with  an  "  Ora  pro  nobis,"  when 
they  reject  the  great  dogmas  which  give  meaning  to  these  rites, 
and  alike  despise  the  Mother's  power  and  the  Son's  Divine 
presence.  Who  has  courage  enough  to  follow  out  the  thoughts 
which  these  words  suggest  ?     Who  can  patiently  contemplate 
in  his  own  mind  the  injury  done  to  religion  itself  in  the  souls 
of  those  who  are  thus  brought  without  faith  amid  holiest  mys- 
teries, or  who  witness  such  things,  and  are  met  by  such  scan- 
dals upon  the  very  threshold  of  the  Church  ?     And  yet  how 
many  are  there  who  not  only  tolerate  such  things,  but  even 
lend  a  hand  to  perpetuate  them  !     Men  will  not  defend  what 
every  right  principle  condemns;   but  they  do  what  is  prac- 
tically worse,  they  sanction  it;  they  make  excuses  for  it;  they 
look  away  from  it;  they  acknowledge  it  to  be  very  bad  ;  they 
listen  to  your  expostulations,  and  confess  that  all  you  say  is 
very  true;  but  in  the  end  comes  the  old  question.  What  can  we 
do  ?  what  is  your  remedy  ?      As  though  the  difficulty  of  find- 
ing fit  persons  could   be  admitted  as  a  sufficient  reason  for 
employing  those  who  are   morally  unfit  !      We  should   not 
accept   such   reasoning  in  matters  which   concern   ourselves, 
and  yet  we  let  it  pass  muster  when  God's  service  is  in  ques- 
tion.     Good  schools  are  difficult  to  be  met  with  ;   are  we, 
therefore,   content  to  send  our  children  to  those  which  we 
know  to  be  bad  ?     Or  if  a  son  is  to  be  started  in  life,  do  we 
plead  the  trouble  of  finding  a  good  master  as  our  reason  for 
committing  him  to  one  whose  faith  or  morals  are  unsound  ?  The 
school  may  have  a  high  reputation  for  classical  learning,  the 
professional  man  or  tradesman  may  bear  a  name  of  note  in  his 


tvhat  they  are,  and  what  they  might  become,  125 

peculiar  line;  but  will  uot  the  parent  who  makes  any  claim  to 
a  religious  character  reject  with  scorn  the  advice  that  would 
urge  him  to  overlook  these  moral  deficiencies,  on  the  ground 
of  other  advantages  ;  and  will  he  not  feel  that  the  difficulty  in 
his  way  should  but  make  him  more  careful  in  seeking  out 
those  who  can  alone  do  his  work  effectually  ?  And  so  surely 
must  it  be  in  matters  which  concern  the  functions  of  our  holy 
faith.  The  difficulty  to  be  overcome  is  indeed  great,  but  it  is 
not  invincible ;  and  it  is  to  aid  in  its  removal  that  the  present 
paper  is  written. 

Without  dwelling,  then,  longer  upon  this  point, — though  its 
importance  can  scarcely  be  over-estimated,  and  want  of  space 
can  alone  excuse  our  touching  thus  briefly  upon  it, — let  us  pro- 
ceed to  consider  another  complaint  which  may  be  made  against 
most  of  our  choirs  as  at  present  constituted.  This  is,  the 
ignorance  which  so  generally  prevails  among  them  as  to  the 
duties  they  have  to  perform,  and  the  functions  in  which  they 
have  to  take  so  important  a  part.  Few  persons  who  have  had 
any  experience  in  these  matters  can  have  failed  to  observe  the 
truth  of  this  complaint.  The  miserable  disorder  which  prevails 
when  any  thing  has  to  be  done  by  the  choir,  the  confusion 
which  they  create  in  processions,  their  utter  helplessness  in 
finding  out  introits,  graduals,  antiphons,  and  commemora- 
tions— who  has  not  noted  these  things?  which,  did  they  concern 
less  holy  rites,  would  be  simply  ludicrous.  Of  course,  where 
Protestants  are  admitted  to  the  choir,  such  ignorance  is  not  to 
be  wondered  at ;  for  who  would  look  for  the  Catholic  spirit 
where  the  Catholic  faith  is  wanting  ?  Who  would  expect  in 
strangers  the  freedom  and  intimacy  with  the  ways  of  home, 
which  are  proper  to  the  children  of  holy  Church  ?  This,  it  is 
true,  is  another  reason  for  not  allowing  such  persons  to  take  a 
place  in  our  choirs;  but  we  do  not  stay  to  urge  it  now,  and 
for  this  cause,  that  when  the  greater  argument  will  not  pre- 
vail, we  can  have  but  little  hope  that  any  inferior  one  will 
suffice.  It  is  merely  captious  to  complain  of  tlie  manner  of 
those  whose  faith  you  regard  not;  it  is  pharisaical  to  strain 
at  this  gnat  of  ignorance,  after  swallowing  the  camel  of  mis- 
chief. 

But  this  charge  of  ignorance  is  brought  not  only  against 
Protestants,  but  against  Catholics  also.  Would  that  we  could 
with  reason  deny  it ;  but  we  cannot ;  and  there  is  no  use  in 
trying  to  conceal  the  truth,  or  to  explain  it  away :  it  must  be 
looked  in  the  face.  The  charge  is  but  too  true,  rest  the  blame 
where  it  may.  There  is,  it  must  be  confessed,  a  most  pitiable 
ignorance  of  the  functions  of  the  Church  in  many  Catholics 
who  take  part  in  them ;  and  to  this  must  be  attributed  much 


126  Our  Choirs: 

of  the  disorder  and  confusion  which  attend  most  great  functions 
in  both  England  and  Ireland.*  How  far  this  ignorance  ex- 
tends, and  to  what  classes  it  is  limited,  it  does  not  concern  qui 
present  purpose  to  inquire  ;  enough  that  few,  if  any,  will  ven- 
ture to  deny  its  general  prevalence  among  those  to  whom  the 
duties  of  the  choir  are  intrusted.  Of  course,  we  do  not  mear 
to  say  that  all  are  thus  ignorant  of  this  important  part  of  theii 
duties ;  for  there  are,  doubtless,  many  whose  zeal  is  onh 
equalled  by  their  knowledge ;  but  these  are  the  exceptions 
which  serve  but  to  prove  the  rule. 

It  is  but  right,  however,  that  we  should  explain  more  fulb 
what  we  mean,  lest  any  who  may  feel  themselves  involved  ii 
this  charge  should  misunderstand  the  ignorance  of  which  the> 
are  accused;  and,  moreover,  it  is  but  justice  to  ourselves  t( 
remind  our  readers  of  what  we  have  before  said,  that  hereii 
we  are  not  so  much  blaming  those  who  are  involved  in  thi 
ignorance,  as  the  system  which  has  kept  them  in  it ;  or,  W( 
should  rather  say,  the  utter  want  of  system  which  has  left  then 
in  it,  which,  neglecting  the  due  fitting  of  joroper  instrument 
for  this  especial  office  of  the  Church,  has  been  content  t 
snatch  at  any  thing  when  the  need  urged.  We  will  not  be  S' 
unjust  as  to  blame  those  who  are  thus  pressed  into  a  servic 
for  which  they  have  had  no  preparatory  training ;  but  we  de 
sire  to  expose  the  evils  which  necessarily  result  from  this  no 
system ;  and  we  invite  those  who  suffer  especially  through  i 
to  aid  us  in  carrying  into  effect  the  plan  we  have  to  lay  befor 
our  readers  and  the  public  for  remedying  this  evil,  whic! 
afflicts  all  classes  alike — choir-singers  and  congregations,  priest 
and  people  —  those  who  exemplify  in  themselves  the  want  c 
due  training  and  instruction,  and  those  who  suffer  through  th 
ignorance  and  inefUciency  of  what  misrepresents  the  Churcli' 
idea  of  a  Catholic  choir. 

Having  thus,  as  we  hope,  removed  a  wrong  impressioi 
which  might  influence  the  minds  of  some  to  regard  us  as  of 
ponents,  when,  in  truth,  we  are  making  common  cause  wut 
them,  and  when,  instead  of  attacking  them,  we  are  fighting  o 
their  side  against  a  neglect  under  which  we  all  alike  suffer.  It 
us  proceed  to  consider  the  ig7iorajice  of  winch  complaint 
made,  and  for  which  it  is  our  object  to  suggest  a  remedy. 

And  first,  it  should  be  clearly  understood  that  we  are  n( 
now  speaking  of  ignorance  of  music.     On  this  point  we  sh 
have  presently  to  say  a  few  words,  when  considering  th( 

*  Many  persons  who  assisted  last  autumn  at  the  Great  Festival  at  Ami 
will  have  been  struck  with  the  remarkable  contrast  there  presented  by  the  < 
duct  and  general  efficiency  of  a  large  troop  of  singing-boys  attached  to  the  ca|j 
il  ral.     Their  discipline  was  complete. 


■what  they  are,  and  ivhat  they  might  lecome.  127 

loirs,  or  portions  of  choirs,  which  are  without  due  scientific 
ainino:;  but  now  we  are  taking  for  granted  that  the  singers 
:q  sufficiently  instructed  in  music,  and  can  properly  sing 
hat  is  set  before  them.  The  defect  to  w^iich  we  allude  is 
!i  ignorance  of  the  ceremonies  proper  to  their  office,  and  of 
le  functions  in  which  they  take  part.  To  illustrate  what  we 
lean,  we  will  suppose  them  assisting  at  a  High  Mass.  How 
lany  know  what  festival  is  to  be  celebrated,  and  what  music 
>  proper  for  the  occasion  ?  Ask  what  Mass  is  to  be  sung,  and 
ley  will  tell  you  the  name  of  some  composer ;  but  of  Introit, 
rradualj  or  any  thing  else  beyond  tiiis,  they  have  no  know- 
,^dge.  In  the  Offertory  piece,  too,  the  ignorance  of  the  choir 
oo  often  manifests  itself;  for  who  among  them  knows  what 
fstival  they  are  celebrating,  or  who  cares  to  think  what  will 

nost  appropriate  ?  Rather  the  question  is,  who  is  there 
.  iing,  and  what  is  the  last  piece  learned  ?  or,  whose  turn  is 
t  to  have  the  solo  ?  And  so  it  comes  to  pass  that  our  ears  are 
tartled  by  words  which  are  wonderfully  out  of  place,  and 
iiusic  which  finds  no  echo  in  the  solemnity  of  the  season : 
lymns  of  joy,  rich  in  *'  Alleluias,"  are  sung  in  Lent,  while 
trains  of  sorrow  are  wailed  forth  at  Christmas  or  Easter.  Nor 
et  any  suppose  that  we  are  at  all  exaggerating  in  what  we  are 
low  saying.  The  last  few  months  have,  within  our  own  ex- 
)erience,  illustrated  this  incongruity,  as  we  happen  to  know 
hat  on  one  occasion  (at  the  Mass  of  Exposition  of  the  Blessed 
sacrament),  the  piece  selected  for  the  Offertory  at  that  joyous 
ime  was  a  verse  from  the  Stabai  Mater,  "  O  quam  tristis 
?t  afflicta,"  &:c.  Of  course,  it  was  a  favourite  piece  with  the 
principal  soprano,  and  therefore  was  sung  ;  while  shortly  after- 
.vards,  in  the  same  city,  the  feast  of  their  founder  was  cele- 
jrated  by  one  of  the  religious  orders,  and  the  marvellously  in- 
appropriate stanza  from  the  same  hymn,  "  Quis  est  homo  qui 
iion  fleret,"  did  duty  at  the  Offertory.  Of  course,  Rossini's 
music  was  the  only  thing  thought  of;  and  so  the  Stahat  Mater 
must  furnish  materials  for  the  great  festivals. 

And  surely  it  must  be  to  this  ignorance  of  what  is  fit  and 
becoming,  and  not  to  any  intentional  irreverence,  that  we  must 
ascribe  those  offensive  exhibitions  which  too  often  meet  us  in 
certain  places,  where  the  church  is  suddenly  converted  into  a 
concert-room,  and  the  stranger  is  most  unexpectedly  favoured 
with  a  series  of  solos,  duets,  and  choruses  by  '*  the  principal 
musical  talent  of  the  neighbourhood."  We  ourselves  were 
present,  not  long  since,  on  one  of  these  occasions,  when,  after 
a  Low  Mciss,  with  music  (i.  e,  with  part  of  one  of  Haydn's 
Glorias,  lasting  all  through  the  Mass),  our  ears  were  assailed 
with  a  flourish  of  trumpets,  and  a  regular  concert  began — first. 


128  Our  Choirs: 

a  long  symphony  ;  then  what  sounded  very  much  like  an  "  ari, 
bufFa"  by  a  basso ;  tlien  a  brilliant  affair  in  the  Non  piu  mesti 
style;  then  a  chorus  from  the  Creation,  During  all  this  th' 
congregation  sat  quietly  listening,  smiling  their  admiration  o 
particular  passages  ;  while  some  children  near  us  availed  them 
selves  of  the  general  relaxation  to  feast  on  apples,  &c.  Th 
performances  were  for  a  time  interrupted  by  a  charity  sermon 
but  as  soon  as  this  was  over,  the  concert  was  again  renewe 
with  unabated  vigour,  while  the  Blessed  Sacrament  was  expose 
and  Benediction  given  ;  the  Tantum  ergo  Sao'amentum,  as  \\ 
afterwards  found  out,  being  one  of  the  briUiant  solos  whic 
attracted  such  attention  and  excited  so  much  admiration! 

Charity  suggests  that  this  ill-timed  and  most  unbecomin 
exhibition  should  be  attributed  to  the  ignorance  rather  tha 
to  the  irreverence  of  those  who  do  not  understand  the  Church 
spirit.  They  use  what  skill  they  have  in  God's  service,  ar 
therein  are  worthy  of  all  praise.  It  is  their  misfortune,  ratli 
than  their  fault,  that  they  know  not  how  to  employ  arig 
what  they  have  to  offer,  and  thus  waste  in  unseemly  disph 
the  ability  which  might  be  turned  to  much  better  account ;  f 
had  the  same  amount  of  musical  talent  been  duly  trained  1 
the  Church's  service  in  the  way  which  she  requires,  how  vast 
different  would  have  been  the  result !  for  then  music  wou 
have  taken  its  due  place  as  the  handmaid  of  religion.  Its 
vices  would  have  been  sanctified,  and  all  would  have  bee 
harmony ;  whereas,  for  want  of  this,  the  whole  was  one 
fused  jumble  of  discordant  elements;  the  church  and  cone 
room  alternately  succeeded  each  other,  and  at  last  were  fo: 
into  most  unnatural  union. 

We  have  thus  far  spoken  only  of  choirs  which  consis 
trained  singers ;  of  persons  who  have  received  a  good  mus 
education,  and  who  consequently  are  able  to  do  justice 
music  of  a  high  order.     Some  few  such  choirs  exist  in 
country,  and  by  their  performance  of  certain  Masses  give  w* 
satisfaction  to  people  who  can  appreciate  excellence.     Perha 
there  may  be  some  five  or  six  which  come  under  this  descri 
tion  ;  but  against  even  these  the  objections  we  have  urged  m 
be  taken,  because,  in  common  with  the  rest,  they  have  had 
especial  ecclesiastical  training ;  they  have  not  been  put  in  tl 
way  of  acquiring  the  right  spirit,  and  so  are  deficient  in  ma* 
most  important  respects,  in  what  is  wanting  in  a  true  CathiJi 
choir-man  ;  and  therefore,  could  such  accomplished  musiciri 
be  obtained  for  most  of  our  choirs, — which  is  simply  imra 
sible, — we  still  should  not  have  what  we  want,  and  what:) 
assert  may  be  obtained  without  any  very  enormous  exertij 
or  any  overwhelming  expense. 


u'hat  they  are,  and  what  they  might  become.  129 

But  there  is  another  class  of  choir-singers,  which  is  more 

enerally  to  be  met  with,  and  of  which  we  desire  to  speak 

vith  all  possible  respect,  because  we  know  how  pure  is  the 

aotive  which  actuates  its  members,   and  how  great  is  fre- 

[uently  the  sacrifice  of  time  and  ease  which  they  make  to  ful- 

il  the  duties  which  they  have  undertaken.     But,  alas,  how 

eldom  can  we  find  among  this  most  estimable  class  the  mu- 

.ical  skill  and  experience  which  is  absolutely  necessary  for  a 

lue  discharge  of  the  duties  of  the  choir:  devotional  feeling 

;hey  have  ;  but  this  will  not  supply  the  need  of  musical  knovv- 

;  edge :  they  wish  to  do  what  is  right ;  but  good  wishes  avail 

3ut  little  in  such  matters,  and  so  we  have  musical  perform- 

mces  which  are  real  musical  phenomena,  trying  enough  to 

■he  ordinary  listener,  but  positively  excruciating  to  the  ear  of 

1  musician. 

It  surely  requires  but  little  observation  to  see  that  most 
amateur  performers  are  in  some  respects  as  unfitted  for  choir 
duties  as  mere  professional  singers  are  in  others.  Nor  can  it 
be  said  that  they  mutually  supply  one  another's  deficiencies ; 
for  were  it  so,  a  judicious  combination  of  the  two  might  be  all 
that  is  needed  ;  but  it  is  not  so  :  wherein  they  chiefly  fail,  both 
professional  and  amateur  alike  fail ;  and  this  defect  can  be  re- 
medied in  one  way  alone,  namely,  by  a  regular  education  for 
the  work  of  the  choir.  What,  then,  we  assert,  and  what  every 
one's  experience  in  the  matter  must  confirm,  is  this,  that  at 
present  we  have  no  sufficient  materials  out  of  which  to  form 
satisfactory  choirs.  We  may  engage  musical  ability  and  ex- 
perience on  one  side,  we  may  invite  devout  Catholics  on  ano- 
ther, we  may  (perhaps)  meet  with  others  who  know  something 
of  ritual  matters,  and  we  may  pick  up  a  few  who  will  volun- 
teer the  chant  of  the  Vespers  ;  but  where  shall  we  find  all  these 
qualifications  combined  in  the  same  persons?  Let  any  one 
who  has  tried  to  form  a  choir  upon  right  principles  answer 
this  question ;  indeed,  as  things  now  are,  it  is  simply  impossi- 
ble to  do  so,  and  therefore  many  excellent  people,  priests  and 
laymen  alike,  have  given  it  up  in  despair,  as  a  dream  which 
can  never  be  realised.  And  yet  such  choirs  have  been  in 
times  past,  and  are  yet  to  be  found  in  other  lands. 

It  surely,  then,  becomes  a  duty  to  see  if  something  cannot 
be  done  to  remedy  an  evil  which  every  one  admits  and  de- 
plores ;  and  perhaps  no  time  could  be  better  fitted  for  the  at- 
tempt than  the  present,  when  choir  matters  are  in  so  unset- 
tled a  state.  Efforts  have  been  made  in  almost  every  direc- 
tion during  the  last  few  years  to  remedy  old  abuses.  Many 
have  been  cut  down  root  and  branch,  with  a  zeal  that  pro- 
mised great  things  :  organ-galleries  have  been  cleared  out,  ladies 


130  Our  Choirs: 

receivecl  polite  thanks  and  dismissals,  and  old-fashioned  people 
have  been  startled  from  their  dozings  by  the  unusual  spectach 
of  surpliced  choir-men  and  boys.  But  then,  alas,  people  whis- 
pered that  the  new  singers  were  not  Catholics,  and  might  b( 
heard  elsewhere  singing  music  of  a  very  different  character 
and  then  irreverences  which  had  escaped  observation  behim 
gallery-curtains  came  openly  into  view,  until,  at  last,  man} 
who  had  taken  part  in  the  original  movement  grew,  as  wel 
they  might,  dissatisfied  with  what  they  saw,  and  in  despair  o 
a  better  remedy,  almost  yearned  after  the  old  days  of  orgai 
galleries,  the  "  talented  Miss  Smith,"  and  Glorias  twent 
minutes  long.  Nor,  it  must  be  confessed,  can  we  altogethe 
condemn  those  who  felt  thus;  for  is  there  not  somethin. 
sound  at  bottom  ?  is  there  not  a  hatred  of  sham,  a  contemp 
for  mere  pretence  of  ritual  exactness,  which  clothes  Protestant 
in  the  garb  of  ecclesiastics,  and  sacrifices  a  principle  for  tL 
sake  of  an  effect  ? 

We  think,  then,  that  this  is  precisely  the  time  for  bring 
ing  forward  a  scheme  for  meeting  this  difficulty,  and  for  deal 
ing  with  it  in  a  right  way.     The  old  system  was  confessedly 
bad  one ;  the  attempt  at  its  correction  has  in  a  measure  failec 
and  why?      Because  it  began  at  the  wrong   end:  it  swep 
away  one  system  before  it  had  another  ready  to  fill  its  place 
and,  moreover,  it  imitated  much  that  was  bad  in  the  explo 
sj'stem.     Ritual  propriety  excluded  females  from  choirs; 
their  place  was  supplied  by  untrained  boys  who  could 
sing,  or  by  others  who  could,  but  who  came  from  places  of 
repute,  and  who  had  been  brought  up  in  an  utterly  worl 
system.    Instead  of  founding  schools  for  a  complete  educati 
in  Catholic  music  and  ritual,  where  musicians  might  be  formi 
who  would  understand  what  the  Church  required  of  them,  ? 
which  would  by  this  time  have  provided  us  not  only  w 
singing  boys  who  would  know  what  they  sing,  but  with  org 
ists,  cantors,  and  choir-men  ;  instead  of  this,  it  was  content 
pick  up  here  a  good  voice,  and  there  a  clever  boy,  and  use  hii 
while  his  voice  lasted,  and  then  throw  him  aside,  because  n 
pains  had  been  taken  to  make  him  useful  in  after-life — just ; 
a  child  will  fill  its  garden  with  plucked  flowers,  and  enjoy  the 
brief  sweetness,  takinj?  no  thou^^ht  for  the  future.     Of  cours 
nothing  came  of  such  a  perverse  course  as  this,  for  nothii 
could  come  of  it  but  disappointment  and  labour  in  vain  ;  choi. 
men  were  continually  leaving,  for  there  was  nothing  to  att 
them  to  the  Church's  service ;  boys  who  could  sing  were  or 
to  be  obtained  at  heavy  cost,  and  then  just  as  their  voices  w< 
failing ;  in  short,  go  where  you  will,  you  hear  the  same  coi 
plaint,  that  of  all  his  trials  the  choir  is  one  of  the  most  ann 


ichat  they  are,  and  wliai  tlieij  might  become.  131 

ing:  of  all  disappointinents  it  is  perhaps  the  greatest  which 
the  zealous  missionary  priest  meets  with  in  his  ordinary 
course.  And  yet  the  remedy  for  all  this  is  in  our  own  hands, 
if  we  but  choose  to  use  it;  we  need  but  ordinary  patience,  a 
Httle  zeal,  and  some  self-sacrifice,  to  carry  out  a  scheme 
which  will  not  only  supply  in  a  great  measure  our  present 
wants,  but  will  provide  most  amply  for  our  future  greatest 
necessities. 

AVhat  this  remedy  is,  we  have  already  suggested.  We 
must  establish  good  schools,  in  which  music  must  be  thoroughly 
taught  by  competent  masters,  and  in  which  the  functions 
must  be  fully  explained,  and  the  boys  trained  to  fill  those 
offices  to  which  the  Church  invites  them.  Our  wants  them- 
selves suggest  the  instruction  which  is  needed ;  while  the  de- 
ficiencies we  have  pointed  out  in  the  majority  of  those  who 
now  fill  our  choirs,  warn  us  against  the  danger  into  which  we 
might  run,  of  neglecting  one  part  of  education  for  the  sake  of 
another.  Only  let  us  get  a  clear  idea  of  what  we  want,  and 
the  course  of  education  will  not  be  difficult  to  be  determined. 
We  want  musicians;  boys  who  can  understand  music  in  all  its 
various  styles,  who  will  grow  up  into  a  competent  knowledge 
of  the  science,  and  so  be  able  in  after-life  to  continue  in  choir, 
and  take  office  as  choir-masters,  or,  it  may  be,  as  organists. 
And  in  these  "  various  styles"  we  include  Gregorian  as  well 
as  modern  music.  Never  was  there  a  more  entire  mis- 
take than  that  which  treats  Gregorian  music  as  characteris- 
tically easy,  in  comparison  with  later  compositions.  To  mo- 
dern ears  and  capacities  it  is  most  difficult,  requiring  a  peculiar 
training  to  render  its  execution  at  all  what  it  ought  to  be. 
But  mere  musicians  will  not  content  us,  however  accomplished 
they  may  be ;  because  the  office  they  have  to  fill  is  one  of  a 
higher  and  holier  character  than  a  simply  musical  one.  As 
ministers  of  holy  Church,  they  have  to  apply  their  peculiar 
gifts  and  knowledge  to  her  service,  and  in  the  especial  way 
which  she  has  pointed  out.  Hence  it  is  at  once  evident  that 
those  we  train  must  be  Catholics;  and  that  we  must  train  them 
as  thoroughly  for  their  especial  office,  as  we  would  train  a 
priest  for  the  duties  of  the  sanctuary.  Thus  Latin  becomes 
an  essential  feature  in  their  course  of  study  ;  the  least  we  can 
require  is  that  they  should  understand  what  they  sing;  but 
over  and  above  this,  they  must  understand  what  they  have  to 
do;  no  amount  of  drilling  will  fit  them  for  assisting  in  the 
divine  offices  and  functions  of  the  Church  so  well  as  a  familiar 
acquaintance  with  those  offices  and  functions  themselves  ;  they 
must  be  taught  the  meaning  of  all  in  which  they  take  a  part, 
and  know  why  the  Church  requires  this  elaborate  ceremonial, 


132  Our  Choirs: 

and  why  she  is  so  precise  in  details.  Thus  must  they  be 
reared  in  her  courts  and  trained  in  her  ways ;  and  then  un- 
consciously they  will  imbibe  her  spirit,  and  grow  into  what 
she  would  have  them  to  be.  Their  musical  talent  will  be 
duly  fostered  and  healthily  developed.  Educated  in  a  spirit 
of  devotion,  they  will  learn  to  offer  to  God  their  best ;  and  so 
will  understand  that  all  that  art  and  science  can  do  to  render 
their  service  acceptable  must  be  carefully  sought  after  and 
diligently  used,  that  music  may  fill  its  appointed  place — and 
that  a  high  and  very  important  one — in  the  service  of  the 
altar.  Impressed  with  a  just  appreciation  of  the  holiness  of 
the  work  in  which  they  are  engaged,  how  careful  w'ill  their 
teachers  be  to  inspire  right  principles  into  their  minds,  and  to 
enkindle  holy  aspirations  in  their  hearts ;  and  how  innume- 
rable will  the  opportunities  be  which  present  themselves,  and 
of  which,  when  really  in  earnest,  they  will  not  fail  to  take 
advantage,  to  initiate  these  young  servants  of  holy  Church 
into  the  profound  mysteries  which  are  so  strikingly  set  forth 
in  the  appointed  ceremonies  of  religion.  And  thus  will  they, 
as  they  grow  in  years  and  advance  in  temporal  knowledge, 
acquire  a  deeper  and  fuller  insight  into  the  things  of  God, 
and  learn  to  recognise  His  hand  in  forms  which  to  many  are 
without  meaning,  and  to  hear  His  voice  in  words  which  to  too 
many  ears  sound  in  vain. 

Trained  in  such  a  system  as  this,  what  may  we  not  hope 
for  in  time  to  come  ?  Ignorance,  now  so  often  the  fruitful 
source  of  irreverence  and  confusion,  will  be  banished  from  our 
choirs ;  for  a  few  such  as  these  will  be  the  salt  to  season  th\ 
rest — will  be  the  leaven  to  leaven  the  whole.  The  zealoi 
priest  will  no  longer  fear  or  distrust  his  choir ;  but  instead 
a  grief,  they  will  be  a  joy  to  his  heart ;  instead  of  spreading 
confusion  whenever  they  take  part  in  functions,  and  givinj 
disedification  by  their  light  or  irreligious  behaviour,  they  wi| 
be  his  readiest  assistants  and  most  trustworthy  ministers,  gl( 
rifying  God  as  well  by  their  knowledge  and  behaviour  as  b^ 
their  musical  skill  and  ability. 

Nor  let  it  be  supposed  that  this  is  a  mere  Utopian  dream 
—  a  thing  to  be  wished  for,  but  beyond  our  realisation;  for 
what  is  needed  to  carry  it  out  but  that  a  few  zealous  and  active 
men,  impressed  with  a  due  sense  of  its  importance,  and  havini 
a  clear  view  of  the  work  to  be  done,  should  unite  in  foundinj 
a  really  good  school  for  tins  especial  work  ?  Not  that  we  woul 
wish  to  limit  the  work  to  one  school ;  for  it  may  be  more 
less  fully  carried  out  in  many  missionary  parishes.  We  ha\ 
lately  seen  a  prospectus  of  one  such  school  at  Mortlake, 
which  we  wish  gladly  to  take  this  opportunity  to  direct  attei 


On  Holy  Water.  133 

tionji^  as  the  first  attempt  to  meet  tins  pressing  need ;  but  we 
hope  that  eventually  a  school  on  a  still  larger  scale  may  be 
established,  which  will  be  able  more  completely  to  realise  the 
idea  here  set  forth,  and  which  will  serve  both  as  a  model  to 
other  missions,  and  also  as  a  source  from  whence  masters  may 
in  time  be  drawn,  to  manage  smaller  establishments  of  a  simi- 
lar kind. 


RITES  AND  CEREMONIES. 
No.  I. — Holy  Water. 

When  one  of  our  Protestant  fellow-countrymen  enters  for  the 
first  time  a  Catholic  church,  he  is  struck  by  seeing  a  vase  of 
water  close  to  the  door.  His  wonder  is  increased  when  he 
sees  everyone  go  to  it,  take  a  little  of  the  water  on  his  finger, 
and  make  the  sign  of  the  cross.  If  he  happens  to  come  in  for 
the  parish  Mass  on  Sundays,  he  sees  the  priest  go  round  the 
church  sprinkling  this  water  over  the  heads  of  the  people.  If 
a  Missal  has  been  put  into  his  hand,  he  may  have  seen,  to- 

•  MoRTLAKE  Choral  School. — This  school  is  intended  for  a  pai-ticular 
class  of  children,  and  is  called  a  Choral  School,  because  a  practical  knowledge  of 
music,  especially  of  ecclesiastical  music,  will  be  a  part  of  the  education  given.  In 
almost  every  mission  there  ai'e  to  be  found  boys  employed  about  the  altar  or  in 
the  choir,  who  unite  good  general  abilities  with  some  taste  for  music,  and  who- 
are  very  desirous  of  improving  themselves  and  getting  on.  It  is  to  the  parents 
or  patrons  of  such  boys  that  this  school  offers  an  opportunity  of  giving  them^ 
at  a  small  expense,  such  a  good  general  education  as  may  fit  them  to  be  school- 
masters or  office  clerks ;  or,  if  they  have  a  vocation,  to  go  on  to  the  ecclesiastical 
state. 

And  secondly,  as  one  step  towards  supplying  the  great  want  at  present  ex- 
isting of  properly-trained  choristers,  singing-men,  and  choir-masters,  it  is  in- 
tended to  give  them  a  thorough  training  in  vocal  music  ;  not  of  any  one  par- 
ticular  school,  but  such  as  may  enable  them  to  execute  correctly  whatever  may 
be  required  of  them. 

In  accordance  with  this  object,  the  following  rules  will  be  observed  in  grant- 
ing admission  : 

I.  The  children  must  not  be  under  nine  years  of  age,  and  have  received 
an  ordinary  education. 

II.  They  must  have  a  natural  turn  for  music. 

III.  They  must  have  good  natural  abilities,  and  have  shown  a  disposi- 
tion to  exert  themselves. 

IV.  They  must  be  recommended  for  their  general  good  behaviour. 

The  education  will  be  that  of  an  ordinary  English  education,  with  the  ad- 
dition  of  Latin  and  vocal  music.  Instrumental  music  will  not  be  an  ordinary 
part  of  the  education ;  but  boys  who  are  likely  to  become  useful  as  organists 
will  have  the  opportunity  of  being  trained  for  that  purpose. 

The  pension  for  boys  who  live  in  lodgings  provided  by  their  parents  (which 
must  be  approved  of  by  the  Director)  will  be  from  6/.  to  11.  a  year;  for  those 
provided  with  board  and  lodgings,  from  liil.  to  20/.,  extras  included. 

For  further  particulars,  address  to  Rev.  J.  G.  Wen  ham,  St.  Mary  Mag- 
dalen's, Mortlake. 

VOL.  I. NEW  SERIES.  L 


134  On  Holy  Water. 

wards  the  end,  various  forms  of  blessing:  the  form  for  bless- 
ing lambs  at  Easter,  eggs,  bread,  new  fruits,  eatables,  candles, 
a  new  house,  a  room,  a  new  ship,  priest's  vestments ;  and  at 
the  end  of  each  form  there  is  a  rubric  directing  the  object  to 
be  sprinkled  with  holy  water.  What  is  this  holy  water?  he 
says.  Is  it  a  remnant  of  Judaism  or  of  Paganism  ?  or  is  it  an 
invention  of  the  dark  ages?  Any  how,  the  prejudiced  man 
does  not  hesitate  to  pronounce  it  something  eminentl}^  un- 
christian, and  an  unmitigated  superstition.  Here  and  there, 
however,  a  more  cautious  and  inquiring  mind  may  have  some 
curiosity  to  obtain  more  accurate  information  on  the  subject. 
The  following  attempt  to  satisfy  this  laudable  curiosity  will 
afford  another  instance  of  the  "reat  weisrht  of  historical  evi- 
dence  that  is  to  be  found  in  support  of  those  practices  of  Ca- 
tholic devotion  which  seem  of  minor  importance,  yet  which 
are  very  dear  to  every  sincere  member  of  the  Church. 

St.  Thomas  ofAquin  explains  the  use  of  holy  water  in  the 
following  words :  "  Holy  water,"  he  says,  "  is  applied  against 
the  snares  of  the  devil  and  against  venial  sins,  which  are  ob- 
stacles to  the  fruit  of  the  sacraments."*  And  again,  compar- 
ing holy  water  with  exorcisms,  which  are  also  used  against  the 
attacks  of  the  devil,  he  says :  "  Holy  water  is  given  against 
outward  assaults  of  devils ;  but  exorcisms  are  used  against 
their  inward  attacks ;"  "  or,  we  may  say,  that  as  penance  is 
given  us  to  be  a  second  remedy  for  sin,  in  consequence  of  bap- 
tism not  being  repeated,  so  holy  water  is  the  second  remedy 
against  diabolical  assaults,  because  the  exorcisms  of  baptism 
are  not  repeated."f  Elsewhere  he  writes:  "  Holy  water  is 
used  to  obtain  the  pardon  of  venial  sins.  This  it  effects,  inas- 
much as  it  is  used  with  feelings  of  respect  for  God  and  holy 
things.  The  punishment  of  venial  sin  will  be  remitted  ac- 
cording to  the  degree  of  fervour  with  which  we  turn  to  God. "J 
If  we  compare  this  doctrine  of  St.  Thomas  with  the  doctrine  of 
the  Church  at  the  present  day,  as  laid  down  in  the  prayers  used 
for  blessing  water,  we  shall  see  that  600  years  have  made  no 
change  in  this  regard. §  We  may  therefore  expect  to  find  tliat 
St.  Thomas,  in  like  manner,  has  only  told  us  what  had  been 
held  in  the  Church  before  his  time,  even  from  the  beginning. 

Without  recurring  to  the  practices  of  the  old  lavv,||  and 
without  basing  an  argument  on  any  text  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment, we  will  confine  ourselves  to  the  monuments  of  Chris- 

•  Sum.  pars  L  q.  65,  a.  1  ad  6.  f  Ibid.  q.  71,  a.  2  ad  3. 

X  Ibid,  q,  87,  a.  3  ad  3. 

§  The  reader  may  find  the  translation  of  the  prayers  used  for  blessing  holy 
water  in  Dr.  Rock's  Ilierurgia,  voL  ii.  pt.  ii.  c.  13. 
II  Exod.  XXX.  17 ;  Num.  xix.  1,  5,  17. 


On  Holy  Water.  135 

tian  antiquity  and  the  records  of  ecclesiastical  history.  Tiie 
earliest  monuments  are  of  course  the  Roman  catacombs;  and 
even  there  we  have  traces  of  the  use  of  holy  water.  Bottari, 
in  his  Roma  Sotterranea^^  gives  the  copy  of  a  fresco  taken 
from  one  of  the  cliapels  there,  wherein  a  certain  number  of 
elergy  are  represented  in  dalmatics,  and  one  is  sprinkling  holy 
water.  This  painting,  however,  may  not  be  of  the  highest 
antiquity.  But  besides  this,  at  the  entrances  of  the  cubicula 
that  were  used  for  churches  in  the  times  of  persecution,  low 
pillars  are  sometimes  found,  on  which  it  would  seem  that  vases 
of  holy  water  were  placed.  Certainly  Eusebius  alludes  to  these 
vases  in  the  great  church  built  by  PauHnus  Bishop  of  Tyre  ;f 
^nd  Le  Brun  assures  us  that  the  Nestorians  of  Malabar  had 
holy  water  at  the  door  of  their  churches. J  It  appears,  in- 
■deed,  from  many  passages  of  the  early  Fathers,  that  the  faith- 
ful used  regularly  to  wash  their  hands  at  the  church-doors* 
And  hence  frequent  occasion  is  taken  of  reminding  them  that 
they  ought  to  come  to  prayer  with  pure  consciences,  i.e.  free 
from  all  grievous  sin ;  for  otherwise  the  washing  of  hands  will 
avail  nothing. §  And  this  is  only  an  illustration  of  the  prin- 
ciple inculcated  h}^  St.  Thomas  in  the  passage  quoted  above, 
namely,  that  holy  water  is  not  a  sacrament,  but  depends  for 
its  effects  in  purifying  from  venial  sin  on  the  dispositions  of 
the  person  using  it.|| 

But  St.  Thomas  mentions  another  use  of  holy  water,  viz, 
as  a  preservative  against  the  outward  attacks  of  the  devil; 
and  since  this  is  a  point  that  may  not  be  so  easily  proved  in 
accordance  with  early  tradition,  we  propose  to  turn  our  chief 
attention  to  it.  As  early  as  the  beginning  of  the  second  cen- 
tury (according  to  Anastasius  the  librarian),  the  faithful  had 
obtained  leave  from  Pope  Alexander  I.  to  take  holy  water 
from  the  church  to  their  own  houses  ;^  and  probably  this  was 
only  sanctioning  an  existing  practice.  In  the  Apostolical  Con- 
stitutions,** the  blessing  of  water  is  ascribed  to  St.  Matthew. 
*'  St.  Matthew,"  it  is  there  said,  "  ordained  that  the  bishop 
should  bless  water  or  oil.  But  if  the  bishop  be  not  present, 
let  the  priest,  assisted  by  the  deacon,  give  the  blessing.  When 
the  bishop  is  present,  both  priest  and  deacon  must  assist.    The 

*  Tom.  iii.  p,  171,  par.  148 ;  given  in  Rock's  Hieriirgia,  torn.  ii.  p.  2,  c.  13. 

i*  Hist.  Eccles.  x.  4. 

X  Cerdinon.  de  la  Messe,  torn.  vi.  p.  5G7. 

§  Tert.  de  oratione,  c.  11  ;  Paulin.  Ep.  32;  Chrys.  Horn.  25  in  Verb.  aa. 
See  Baron  ad  ann.  57,  Annal.  Eccles.  ;   Bingham,  Antiq.  viii.  3-6. 

II  See  Bergier,  Diet.  Theol.  art.  Eau  benite.  Le  Brun,  Ceremonies  de  la 
Messe,  introd.  art.  vi.  torn.  1. 

Tl   Apud  Baron.  Ann.  Eccles.  an.  132,  m.  3. 

**  Const.  Apost,  1.  viii,  q,  29,— gipud  Mansi,  torn.  i.  p.  578. 


136  On  Holy  Water, 

blessing  is  as  follows  :  Lord  of  Sabaoth,  God  of  power,  tlie 
Creator  of  water  and  giver  of  oil,  Thou  who  pardonest  and 
lovest  man.  Thou  didst  give  water  to  drink  and  cleanse,  and 
oil  for  gladness ;  voucbsafe,  tlien,  to  sanctify  this  water  and 
oil  for  Christ's  sake :  ,  .  .  .  give  to  it  the  power  of  healing 
and  expelling  sickness,*  of  driving  away  devils,  and  of  rescuing 
from  all  snares,  tbrougb  Christ  our  hope,  &c.*' 

Let  us  next  examine  the  pages  of  Church  history.  St. 
Epipbanius,  in  bis  account  of  the  Ebionite  beresy,  after  having 
related  the  conversion  of  Count  Joseph,  tells  us  that  he  had 
obtained  leave  from  tbe  emperor  to  build  churches  for  ^le 
Christians ;  and  that  be  began  at  Tiberias,  wbere  was  a  large 
temple  ascribed  to  Adrian,  and  called  after  him  the  Adrian 
Temple.  But  as  it  had  remained  unfinished,  the  citizens 
were  desirous  of  fitting  it  up  for  public  baths.  Count  Joseph, 
on  learning  this,  determined  to  turn  it  into  a  church.  The 
building,  however,  had  to  be  completed.  In  order  to  prepare 
materials,  he  ordered  seven  furnaces  to  be  made  ready  outside 
tbe  town.  The  Jews,  enraged  at  these  proceedings,  had  re- 
course to  incantations,  which  suspended  the  action  of  the  fire. 
The  workmen,  finding  all  their  labour  to  be  in  vain,  reported 
it  to  the  count,  who  immediately  hastened  to  the  spot;  and 
calling  for  a  vessel  of  water,  made  the  sign  of  the  cross  over 
it,  and  invoked  the  name  of  Jesus,  saying:  "  Li  the  name  of 
Jesus  of  Nazareth,  Whom  my  fathers  crucified,  let  this  water 
have  the  power  of  dispelling  all  incantations  and  magic,  and 
of  restoring  to  the  fire  its  power;  so  that  we  may  complete 
the  house  of  God."  He  then  sprinkled  each  furnace,  and  in 
the  presence  of  all,  the  flames  instantly  burst  forth;  where- 
upon the  crowd  retired,  exclaiming,  "  There  is  but  one  God, 
the  God  who  helps  the  Christians."  The  same  author  had  just 
before  related  how  this  same  Count  Joseph  had  cured  by  the 
same  means  a  madman  possessed  by  the  devil. f  Photius,  too, 
has  recorded  that  St.  Chrysostom  healed  a  poor  woman  by 
sending  her  some  blessed  water.J  St.  Jerome,  again,  in  his 
life  of  the  hermit  St.  Hilarion,  tells  a  still  more  wonderful 
story:  Italicus,  a  Christian  citizen  of  Gaza,  intended  to  run 
his  horses  in  the  circus  against  the  horses  of  a  duumvir  of 
Gaza.  This  magistrate,  being  a  worshipper  of  the  god  Mar- 
nas,  was  versed  in  magic,  and  was  reported  to  be  using  incan-  . 
tations  to  prevent  the  horses  of  Italicus  from  winning.   Italicus 

•  St.  Thomas  says  nothing  about  the  power  in  holy  water  of  restoring  health ; 
but  many  think  that  this  is  limited  to  cases  where  sickness  is  brought  on  either  by 
diabolical  agency,  or  as  a  punishment  of  venial  sin ;  in  which  case  St,  Thomas 
will  have  alluded  to  it  indirectly. 

t  Eph.  de  User.  30,  Ebion,  1.  i.  torn,  ii. 

X  Photius,  Bibliotheca,  <J6. 


On  Holy  Water.     '  137 

tlierefore  liad  recourse  to  the  saint,  and  begged  him  to  dispel 
these  charms ;  without,  however,  doing  any  hurt  to  his  rival. 
Tlie  venerable  Hilarion  at  first  declined  to  interfere  by  prayer 
in  trifles  of  this  kind,  and  with  a  smile  replied  that  he  should 
sell  his  horses,  and  give  the  money  to  the  poor  for  his  soul's 
sake.  But  Italicus  replied  that  he  was  in  some  sort  a  public 
functionary,  and  was  not  free  to  break  off  his  undertaking. 
As  a  Christian,  he  could  not  employ  magic  even  against 
magic ;  and  therefore  he  had  recourse  to  the  servant  of  God 
against  tlie  god  whom  the  people  adored  at  Gaza.  He  wished 
to  blot  out  an  insult  which  was  offered  not  to  himself  person- 
ally but  to  the  Church  of  Christ.  Hilarion  then  called  for 
his  drinking-cup;  and,  after  having  had  it  filled  with  water, 
gave  it  to  Italicus,  who  sprinkled  with  it  the  stables,  horses, 
drivers,  chariots,  and  even  the  race-ground.  Great  were  the 
expectations  of  the  crowd;  for  tliough  the  duumvir  laughed 
at  the  Christian  for  what  he  had  done,  yet  there  were  not 
wanting  others  who  foreboded  the  defeat  of  the  pagan  and 
the  success  of  Italicus,  which  in  fact  really  ensued;  whereupon 
the  people  cried  out,  "  Christ  has  conquered  Marnas ;"  and 
many  were  converted.* 

A  story  not  very  unlike  the  first  which  we  quoted  from 
St.  Epiphanius  is  told  by  Theodoret  in  his  Church  History. 
When  a  prefect  was  sent  by  the  Emperor  Theodosius  to  de- 
stroy the  great  temple  of  Jupiter  at  Apamea,  acting  upon  the 
advice  of  one  of  his  labourers,  he  had  undermined  the  columns 
and  propped  them  up  with  olive-wood,  intending  to  destroy 
these  by  lire,  and  so  to  bring  down  the  massive  superstructure. 
The  devil,  however,  impeded  the  action  of  the  fire  ;  the  wood 
refused  to  ignite.  Marcellus,  the  bishop,  hearing  of  this,  has- 
tened to  the  church,  called  for  a  vessel  of  water,  and  after 
having  placed  it  under  the  altar,  prayed  to  God  that  he  would 
show  His  might  over  the  false  power  of  Satan,  lest  unbelievers 
should  be  more  hardened.  Then  making  the  sign  of  the  cross 
over  the  water,  he  gave  it  to  his  deacon  Equitius,  desirino*  him 
to  sprinkle  it  on  the  place  in  a  spirit  of  faith,  and  then  to 
apply  fire  again  to  the  props.  Hereupon  a  flame  burst  forth, 
which  the  water  seemed  to  feed  as  though  it  were  oil.  The 
three  columns  soon  fell,  and  with  them  twelve  more  and  one 
whole  side  of  the  building;  and  when  the  citizens,  attracted 
to  the  spot  by  the  noise  of  the  fall,  learnt  what  had  happened, 
tliey  gave  glory  to  God  and  sang  hymns  in  His  honour.f 

*  St.  Hier,  in  vita  Sti  Hilarion  Abbat.  Some  authors  attribute  to  this  history 
the  origin  of  the  ceremony  of  blessing  horses  and  other  animals  on  the  festival  of 
St.  Anthony  the  hermit. 

t  TheoJ.  Hist.  Eccles.  1.  v.  c.  21. 


138  On  Holy  Water, 

'^  And  yet  once  more:  St.  Gregory  the  Great,  in  Lis  book 
of  dialogues,  amongst  other  miracles  performed  by  Fortunatus, 
Bishop  of  Todi,  relates  the  following.  The  holy  bishop  had 
tried  earnestly,  but  without  success,  to  ransom  two  boys  whom 
a  Goth  was  carrying  captive  from  the  city.  On  passing  be- 
fore the  church  of  St.  Peter,  this  man  was  thrown  from  his 
horse,  and  broke  his  leg.  He  was  immediately  removed  to 
the  hospitiumy  and  thence,  feeling  remorse  for  what  he  had 
done,  he  sent  to  ask  St.  Fortunatus  to  send  him  a  deacon. 
On  the  deacon's  arrival,  he  bade  him  take  the  two  boys  to 
the  bishop;  "and  tell  him,"  he  added,  "  that  J  have  been 
struck  in  this  way  because  he  cursed  me ;  but  pray  for  me.'*" 
The  deacon  took  the  boys  to  the  bishop,  and  delivered  his 
message ;  and  the  bishop  sent  him  back  with  some  holy  water 
to  sprinkle  over  the  man.  By  this  means  the  man  was  healed, 
and  continued  his  journey  as  if  nothing  had  happened.* 

We  will  now  turn  homewards,  and  see  the  usage  amongst 
our  British  and  Saxon  ancestors.  Venerable  Bede  tells  us, 
that  when  SS.  Germanus  and  Lupus  were  sailing  to  Britain 
(a.d.  447),  the  devil  raised  a  violent  tempest  in  the  Channel. 
St.  Germanus  was  asleep,  but  on  being  awakened  by  St.  Lupus, 
he  sprinkled  water  on  the  waves  in  the  name  of  the  Holy 
Trinity,  and  immediately  they  were, calmed. f  Now  since  these 
holy  men  were  called  over  by  the  Britons  because  they  had 
preserved  the  Catholic  faith  in  its  purity,  it  is  no  assumption 
to  say  that  they  held  the  same  faith  and  religious  observances- 
as  our  own  forefathers ;  or  in  other  words,  that  our  ancestors- 
were  familiar  with  the  use  of  holy  water,  just  as  St.  Germanus 
himself  was.  Si,  Gregory  the  Great,  in  writing  to  the  Abbot 
Mellitus,  says  :  "  When  Almighty  God  shall  have  brought  you. 
to  our  reverend  brother  Bishop  Augustine,  tell  him  what  de- 
termination I  have  come  to  with  regard  to  Enghind ;  namely, 
that  the  temples  of  the  gods  are  not  to  be  destroyed  in  that 
country.  But  when  the  idols  have  been  exterminated,  let 
icater  be  blessed,  let  it  be  sprinkled  in  the  temples;  let  altars 
be  erected,  and  relics  placed  in  them."]: 

Venerable  Bede  also  tells  us  of  many  miraculous  cures- 
wrought  by  means  of  holy  water.  Thus,  Bishop  Acca,  when 
a  priest  in  Ireland  (a.d.  678),  had  cured  a  young  man  by  put- 
ting into  some  blest  water  a  small  particle  of  the  oak  on  whicb 
the  head  of  St.  Oswald  had  been  stuck  by  the  pagans  after  his 
death,  and  giving  it  to  the  sick  man.§     Simeon  of  Durham,  in 

•   S.  Greg.  Magn.  Dial.  I.  i.  c.  10. 
t  H.  E   Gent.  Ang.  1.  i.e.  17. 

X  Ibid.  1.  i.  c.  30.     Pope  Vigilius,  in  the  early  part  of  the  sixth  century,  gives, 
similar  directions  to  Eutherius,  liishoj)  of  I<raga.     Mansi,  torn.  ix.  p.  32. 
§  Idem.  ibid.  1.  iii.  c.  13,  et  v.  vit.  Wilfridi  auctore  Ileddio,  c.  53. 


On  Holy  Water,  139 

Iiis  chronicle,  relates  two  similar  cures  performed  by  means  of 
holy  water  and  relics.  Finally,  the  venerable  historian  of  the 
Anglo-Saxon  Church  tells  us,  on  the  authority  of  Berthun, 
abbot  of  Inderwood,  of  a  similar  miracle  wrought  by  St.  John 
of  Bjverley,  about  the  year  686,  upon  a  noble  lady  residing 
about  two  miles  from  the  monastery  we  have  mentioned.  She 
had  been  confined  to  her  room  for  three  weeks,  when  St.  John 
sent  her  some  of  the  holy  water  that  had  been  blessed  in  the 
dedication  of  the  church,*  desiring  her  both  to  taste  it  and  to 
iiave  it  applied  to  the  parts  where  she  suffered  most  pain.  As 
soon  as  this  had  been  done,  she  arose  quite  healed,  and  waited 
on  the  bishop  and  abbot,  both  of  whom  were  dining  that  day 
at  her  husband's  table,  having  been  persuaded  to  do  so  by 
a  promise  of  plentiful  alms  for  the  poor.  ''  Thus,"  says  our 
author,  "  she  faithfully  imitated  the  example  of  St.  Peter's 
mother-in-law,  who,  when  she  had  been  cured  by  Christ  of 
a  fever,  rose  and  ministered  to  him."-|- 

We  might  multiply  instances  ad  wfinitum;  but  we  have 
said  enough  to  show  that  both  in  the  EasternJ  and  Western 
Church,  and  in  particular  in  the  Church  of  our  own  country, 
holy  water  was  used  just  as  it  is  at  present,  and  for  the  same 
purposes,  viz.  to  counteract  Satanic  agency,  and  to  help  in 
recovering  health. §  It  is  true  that  many  oF  the  instances  re- 
lated are  miraculous;  but  who  can  tell  where  miracles  cease, 
and  where  the  natural  operations  begin  to  work,  after  imped- 
ing causes  have  been  removed  by  special  providence  ?  Every 
priest  can  bear  witness  that  the  poor  Irish  in  this  country  still 
ask  for  Imly  water  when  any  friend  or  relative  is  ill,  or  when 
they  have  heard  some  mysterious  noises  in  their  dwellings 
that  they  ascribe  to  diabolical  agency.  Others  can  bear  wit- 
ness that  houses  that  had  been  left  as  haunted  have,  by  the 
blessing  of  the  priest  and  the  sprinkling  of  holy  water,  been 
rendered  habitable.  Some,  again;  have  seen  cures  which 
seem  almost  miraculous,  by  the  use  of  the  same  instrument 
with  a  firm  and  simple  faith.  We  forbear  from  quoting  in- 
stances; it  is  enough  that  we  give  glory  to  God,  who  grants 
such  powers  to  the  prayers  and  blessing  of  the  Church.|| 

•  The  blessing  of  this  water  is  substantially  the  same  as  that  of  ordinary  holy 
water.  f  H.  E.  1.  v.  c.  4. 

X  See  also  Goar.  Eucholog.  Graec.  pp.  13,  441,  453. 
§   For  other  examples  see  Flores  Exemploru  n,  P.  Dauraultius,  S.  J.  p.  2,  c.  iv. 

il  The  consecration  of  baptismal  water  is  mentioned  by  the  early  Fathers  with, 
the  same  earnestness  as  by  theologians  of  these  days.  St.  Cyp.  Ep.  70  ad  Januar.  ; 
St.  Basil,  de  Spiritu  Sancto,  c.  27,  n.  QQ  ;  St.  Ambros.  de  Sacram.  1.  i.  c.  27,  and 
others.  But  baptismal  water  is  never  confounded  with  holy  water ;  the  form  of 
blessing,  as  well  as  the  use,  being  quite  distinct.  See  Rationale  Divini  Officii. 
Lugduni,  1518. 


140 


ANECDOTES  OF  THE  ROMAN  REPUBLIC. 

La  Repuhhlica  Romana.  Appendice  alV  Ehreo  di  Verona, 
corretta  dalV  Auiore  e  corredata  di  Note,  Taddei,  Fer- 
rara,  1853. 

When  it  was  announced  to  the  readers  of  the  Civilta  Catto- 
lica  that  the  story  of  "the  Jew  of  Verona"  was  ended,  there 
was  a  very  general  complaint  that  it  had  stopped  just  where 
fresh  matter  of  interest  and  importance  was  most  abundant ; 
and  a  loud  demand  was  made  that  tlie  author  sliould  resume 
the  thread  of  his  discourse,  and  describe  the  state  of  Rome 
during  the  period  between  the  Pope's  flight  and  his  return. 
To  an  ordinary  novelist  it  would  not  have  been  easy  to  com- 
ply with  this  request:  when  the  plot  of  a  tale  has  been  once 
fully  developed,  and  some  at  least  of  its  principal  characters 
disposed  of,  according  to  the  approved  rules,  either  by  death 
or  matrimony,  it  would  be  difficult  to  compose  a  new  plot,  in 
which  the  same  characters,  or  as  many  of  them  as  survive, 
should  reappear  in  their  altered  circumstances.  As  we  have 
already  seen,  however,  the  interest  of  Father  Bresciani's  ro- 
mance depended  but  little  on  any  artificial  composition ;  ac- 
cordingly the  heroine,  whom  we  left  in  a  state  of  insensibility, 
having  fainted  at  the  sight  of  the  murdered  hero,  was  soon 
.brought  to  life  again ;  and  the  Appendice  alV  Ehreo  di  Ve- 
rona continued  for  many  months  to  occupy  a  prominent  place 
in  the  Jesuits'  Magazine.  It  has  now  been  republished  in  a 
separate  form;  though  not,  we  are  sorry  to  observe,  uniform 
with  the  volumes  of  which  it  professes  to  be  a  continuation. 
We  have  read  it  with  great  interest,  and  propose  to  select  a 
few  of  the  most  striking  incidents  from  it,  just  as  we  have  re- 
cently done  from  the  original  work.* 

The  Appendix  begins  with  an  account  of  the  effect  that 
was  produced  upon  the  people  and  the  self-appointed  govern- 
ment of  Rome,  by  the  excommunication  pronounced  by  the 
Holy  Father  at  Gaeta  in  the  opening  of  1849.  Every  effort 
was  made  to  destroy  all  the  printed  copies  of  this  document, 
that  they  might  not  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  people.  The 
conspirators  would  fain  have  kept  from  the  public  knowledge 
altogether,  if  this  had  been  possible,  the  fact  of  the  excom- 
munication having  been  declared ;  and  failing  this,  they  were 
anxious  that  they  should  at  least  have  no  opportunity  of 
♦   See  Ramhler,  vol.  xii.  pp.  2S3,  374. 


Anecdotes  of  the  Roman  Repuhlic,  141 

reading  the  document  itself,  but  only  of  hearing  their  garbled 
and  travestied  account  of  its  contents.  Means  were  found, 
however,  of  printing  a  large  number  of  copies  in  Roine  itself; 
and  the  author  tells  us  of  one  noble-minded  Roman  girl,  who 
having  persuaded  a  man  of  her  acquaintance  to  accompany  her 
with  a  bundle  of  these  copies,  went  round  herself  at  the  dead 
of  night  with  paste  and  brush  duly  concealed  under  her  shawl, 
and  affixed  copies  to  the  walls  at  the  corners  of  all  the  princi- 
pal streets  in  Trastcvere,  to  the  doors  of  some  of  the  churches, 
and  even  in  the  immediate  neighbourhood  of  the  quartieri  of 
the  civic  guard,  and  on  the  backs  of  some  of  the  sentry-boxes. 
Many  a  fierce  Republican  too,  when  he  wished  to  use  his 
pocket-handkerchief,  found  a  copy  of  the  dreaded  '  scomunica' 
in  his  pocket  by  its  side ;  others  also  found  them  in  their  hats, 
on  their  beds,  on  the  seats  of  their  carriages,  and  in  a  hundred 
other  most  improbable  places.  In  public  they  professed,  of 
course,  to  feel  only  contempt  for  spiritual  weapons  waged  for 
such  a  cause  in  the  nineteenth  century ;  but  in  their  hearts 
they  knew  that  the  majority  of  the  Roman  people  did  not 
share  in  these  impious  sentiments,  and  they  therefore  dreaded 
the  effect  of  this  measure  ;  and  those  among  the  x^arty  who  had 
been  led,  rather  than  the  leaders,  and  in  whose  breasts  the 
light  of  faith  and  devotion  was  not  yet  extinguished,  could  not 
fail  to  experience  at  least  a  momentary  shock  when  they 
found  themselves  overtaken  by  so  formidable  a  blow.  It  was 
to  encourage  this  momentary  feeling,  and  to  kindle,  if  pos- 
sible, the  latent  spark  of  repentance,  that  the  wives,  and 
mothers,  and  daughters,  and  sisters  of  these  unhappy  men  had 
recourse  to  the  devices  we  have  named. 

The  publication  of  this  declaratory  sentence  of  excommu- 
nication was,  indeed,  the  turning-point  in  the  history  of  very 
many  souls  at  that  critical  period.  It  concerned  those  only 
who  had  taken  an  active  part  in  bringing  about  the  revolution, 
or  were  now  actively  engaged  in  upholding  its  result,  the  ex- 
isting form  of  government.  Armellini,  Sterbini,  Campello, 
and  the  rest,  anxious  to  oblige  as  many  as  possible  to  sail  in 
the  same  boat  with  themselves,  published  a  decree,  requiring 
all  soldiers  to  take  an  oath  of  fidelity  to  the  new  state  of 
things ;  and  all  civil  emj^loyes  to  make  a  declaration  of  their 
adhesion  to  the  same.  At  first,  many  thought  to  lay  the  flat- 
tering unction  to  their  soul,  that  there  was  a  distinction  be- 
tween an  oath  of  fidelity  and  a  mere  declaration  of  adhesion; 
so  that,  whereas  the  former  would  have  been  manifest  treason 
and  perjury  in  those  who  had  long  since  taken  an  oath  of  alle- 
giance to  the  Pope,  the  latter  might,  under  the  pressure  of  the 
circumstances,  be  admissible.    And  Father  Bresciani  gives  an 


142  Anecdotes  of  the  Roman  Repuhlic. 

interesting  description  of  the  way  in  which  man}^  an  unliappy 
official  would  secretly  gain  access  to  some  religious  house, 
there  to  lay  his  case  of  conscience  before  his  father-confessor,  or 
some  other  approved  theologian.  But  by  and  by  the  answer 
came  from  Gaeta  most  explicit,  nan  licet  adhcerere.  And 
though  many,  of  course,  sacrificed  their  consciences  to  the  sup- 
posed necessity  of  providing  for  their  families,  and  still  more  to 
tlie  urgency  of  fear,  others  again  (and,  thank  God,  not  a  few,) 
boldly  resigned  their  posts ;  even  though  (as  very  often  hap- 
pened) it  were  the  only  means  they  had  of  maintaining  their 
wives  and  families.  Some  of  these,  too,  were  men  who  had 
already  given  in  their  adhesion  to  the  government,  under  an 
erroneous  impression  that  this  might  be  allowed  ;  nevertheless, 
as  soon  as  they  heard  of  the  pontifical  decision,  they  openly  re- 
voked their  declaration  of  allegiance  ;  thereby  not  only  losing  j 
all  their  means  of  sustenance,  but  also  exposing  themselves  f 
to  great  personal  danger  as  neri  and  retrogradisti.  Parish- 
priests,  who  publicly  read  and  commented  on  the  brief  of  ex- 
communication from  the  altar  on  Sundays,  and  other  eccle- 
siastics who  were  notorious  for  the  advice  they  had  given  in 
the  confessional  to  all  who  consulted  them  on  the  subject, 
were,  of  course,  specially  obnoxious  to  the  ruling  powers; 
and  our  author  mentions  one  of  the  former  class,  who  escaped 
irom  the  assassination  that  had  been  decreed  against  him,  only 
by  the  kindly  warning  of  one  of  those  who  had  been  deputed  to 
execute  it.  This  man  had  been  imprisoned  many  years  before, 
for  some  not  very  grievous  offence;  and  the  kind-hearted 
parish-priest,  seeing  the  misery  of  his  family  and  the  imminent 
dangers  which  threatened  his  young  and  handsome  wife,  suc- 
ceeded with  great  difficulty  in  procuring  his  liberation,  offer- 
ing himself  as  surety  for  his  future  good  behaviour.  The 
man  had  unfortunately  allowed  himself  to  be  entangled  in  the 
snares  of  the  secret  societies,  and  was  sworn  to  execute  their 
orders.  Nevertheless,  he  could  not  allow  his  former  bene- 
factor to  fall  a  victim  to  their  wickedness ;  still  less  could  he 
consent  to  have  a  share  in  such  a  crime  himself.  He  there- 
fore sent  a  message  by  his  wife,  entreating  him  to  be  out  of 
the  way  by  a  certain  time,  which  he  named.  The  priest  un- 
derstood the  hint,  fied  into  the  country,  and  took  reluge  in 
the  distant  town  of  Ferentino. 

Ferentino  was  one  of  those  frontier  towns  south  of  the  Sa- 
bine chain  of  hills,  which  was  most  steadfast  in  its  allegiance 
to  the  Papal  government ;  its  inhabitants,  like  those  of  Alatri, 
Fumone,  and  other  places  in  the  same  neighbourhood,  refused 
to  elect  a  de})uty  for  the  Roman  Costituente,  and  maintained 
a  position  of  undisguised  hostility  against  the  revolutionists 


Anecdotes  of  the  Roman  Hepublic,  143 

even  in  the  lieif^ht  of  their  temporary  success.  To  counteract 
any  evil  that  might  be  apprehended  from  this  quarter,  Ster- 
bini  undertook  to  go  amongst  tliem,  and  see  if  he  could  not 
sow  tlie  seed  of  corruption,  at  least  in  some  minds.  Of  course 
his  mission  was  not  altogether  without  fruit;  sophistical  argu- 
ments, delusive  promises,  and  a  liberal  distribution  of  money, 
sufficed  to  purchase  a  few  ignorant  and  evilly-disposed  persons 
in  each  town.  His  success,  however,  was  very  limited;  and 
on  his  return  to  Rome,  he  dispatched  some  of  the  most  fero- 
cious of  the  bandit-troops  at  his  disposal  to  keep  these  places 
in  check,  and  prevent  them  from  combining  together  against 
the  republic.  The  troops  were  received  with  silence,  and 
their  presence  tolerated  with  sullen  impatience ;  but  when 
they  proceeded  to  parade  the  streets  after  nightfall  with  bands 
of  music,  and  singing  revolutionary  and  immoral  songs,  the 
people  flocked  out  of  their  houses  and  peremptorily  forbad 
their  passage  :  *  Sonatori,  di  qui  nan  si  passa.'  For  a  moment 
there  was  a  slight  show  of  resistance ;  but  the  men  stepped 
back  into  their  houses,  and  presently  reappeared,  brandishing 
the  burning  sticks  which  they  had  taken  from  off  their 
hearths.  This  soon* put  the  martial  musicians  to  flight;  and 
for  the  future  they  were  obliged  to  confine  their  concerts  to 
their  own  quarters.  In  process  of  time  the  *'  tree  of  liberty,'* 
surmounted  by  the  usual  red  cap,  was  erected  in  the  public 
square  by  order  of  the  government;  the  Pontifical  arms  were 
removed  out  of  sight,  and  the  tricolor  flag  hoisted  in  their 
place.  The  people  were  constrained  to  suppress  their  feelings 
at  all  these  indignities,  and  to  content  themselves  with  avoid- 
ing as  much  as  possible  the  sight  of  the  hated  emblem  of  re- 
volution and  anarchy;  or,  when  obliged  to  pass  it,  they  did — 
as  we  have  heard  that  many  of  the  Irish  peasantry  do  when 
they  meet  a  Protestant  parson — "  put  the  sign  of  the  cross 
between  them  and  evil."  They  hit  upon  an  ingenious  de- 
vice, too,  for  causing  all  the  dogs  of  the  town  to  have  a  spe- 
cial predilection  for  the  foot  of  this  tree ;  and  in  many  other 
ways  delighted  to  show  their  contempt  and  abhorrence  ibr  it. 
At  last  came  the  feast  of  the  patron  of  the  town,  St.  Ambrose  ; 
his  image  was  to  be  carried  as  usual  in  solenni  procession 
through  all  the  principal  streets ;  and  of  course  the  Piazza 
could  not  be  avoided.  They  could  not  endure^  however,  that 
this  sacred  function  should  be  polluted  b}'  the  presence  of  the 
object  of  their  detestation ;  and  a  few  of  the  boldest  spirits 
determined  to  remove  it.  At  first  it  was  proposed  to  consult 
the  bishop,  or  at  least  the  arch-priest  of  the  parish;  but  this 
advice  was  overruled,  lest  the  execution  of  their  plan  should 
be  prohibited.     At  the  very  moment  that  the  bells  rang  out 


144  Aiiecdotes  of  the  Roman  Republic, 

to  announce  the  setting  forth  of  the  procession,  the  first  stroks 
of  the  axe  was  levelled  at  the  root  of  the  tree ;  and  in  a  few 
minutes,  amid  shouts  of  joy.  Viva  Santo  Amhrogio  !   &c.  &c. 
it  was  brought  to  the  ground.     By  the  time  the  procession 
reached  the  spot,  it  had  been  reduced 'to  splinters,  which  were 
eagerly  distributed  to  the  people  as  they  passed,  and  stuck  by 
them  into  the  torches  which  they  were  carrying.    "  The  chief 
magistrate  of  the  town,"  says  Father  Bresciani,   '*  inwardly 
prayed  that  no  harm  might  come  of  this ;  the  bishop  recom- 
mended himself  to  the  protection  of  the  Saint ;  some  of  the 
canons  trembled  for  the  consequences ;  whilst  others  testified 
their  approbation  by  nods  and  gestures  to  the  people,  whose 
applause  was  most  vociferous.     *  Viva  Santo  Ambrogio  !  pass 
on  your  way  rejoicing ;  you'll  see  no  more  of  the  devil's  tree ; 
look  how  it  burns  l'  "     Almost  immediately  afterwards  news 
was  received  of  the  approach  of  the  Neapolitan  army,  who 
were  come  to  assist  in  relieving  them  from  the  heavy  yoke  of 
their  oppressors.     The  inhabitants  of  the  town  went  out  to 
meet  them  with  the  most  joyful  acclamations,  hailing  them  as 
their  deliverers ;  all  the  streets  were  illuminated  to  receive 
them,  and  the  best  wines  and  an  abundance  of  provisions  were 
brought  out  for    their  refreshment.     By  and  by,   however, 
when  this  same  army  had  retired  (in  consequence  of  the  tem- 
porary truce  that  had  been  concluded  between  the  Romans 
and  the  French),  Garibaldi  and  the  Roman  Triumvirs  deter- 
' mined  to  have  a  day  of  reckoning  with  these  faithful  subjects 
of  the  Pope.     A  portion  of  the  most  lawless  troops  in  their 
employ  was  sent  to  take  vengeance  on  the  town ;    and  the 
people,  having  no  head,  nobody  round  whom  they  could  rally, 
who  could  marshal  them  into  order  and  take  measures  for 
their  defence,  fled  like  sheep  before  a  wolf.     Money,  furni- 
ture, provisions,  were  all  concealed  in  the  most  secret  places ; 
the  cattle,  the  men,  women,  and  children  were  all  hurried  ofl^ 
with  the   utmost  confusion  across  the  Neapolitan   frontier; 
bishop  and  priests,  monks  and  friars,  and  even  cloistered  nuns, 
joined  in  the  universal  flight;  and  the  distress  and  confusion 
which  ensued  was  indescribable.     One  priest,  who  had  Ihi- 
gered  behind  the  rest,  and  upon  whose  track  dogs  were  set  by 
some  of  Garibaldi's  legion,  was  so  blinded  by  the  hurry  and 
alarm  of  his  flight,  that  he  fell  over  a  considerable  precipice ; 
providentially  his  fall  was   intercepted  by  a  thick   mass    of 
brambles,  so  that  he  was  not  dashed  to  pieces ;  nevertheless 
he  encountered  new  perils  of  another  kind,  for  he  alighted  on 
the  hiding-place  of  a  wolf,  who  was  not  a  little  amazed  at  the 
unexpected  intrusion,  and  lost  no  time  in  taking  himself  off. 
Father  Bresciani  tells  this  story  as  an  illustration  of  the 


Anecdotes  of  the  Roman  Republic,  145 

weak  and  defenceless  condition  of  the  people,  even  where  their 
devoted  loyalty  was  most  unquestionable,  through   lack  of 
competent  guides  and  leaders;  and  he  is  anxious  by  these 
means  to  make  out  a  case  for  the  Roman  people,  against  those 
who  would  condemn  them  all  for  perfidy  and  ingratitude  in 
their   desertion  of  the  Pope.     That  the  great  mass  of  the 
people  were  more  sinned  against  than  sinning,  that  they  were 
grossly  deceived  by  the  hypocritical  professions  of  the  revolu- 
tionary leaders,  and  basely  deserted  by  those  who  should  have 
set  them  a  noble  example  and  placed  themselves  at  their  head, 
we  most  fully  believe  ;  at  the  same  time,  we  cannot  altogether 
acquit  them  from  the  charge  of  an  excess  of  timidity.     This 
very  example  of  the  people  of  Ferentino  seems  fully  to  esta- 
blish it;  a  town  enjoying  every  advantage  of  natural  position, 
surrounded  by  massive  walls  of  Cyclopean  architecture,  inha- 
bited by  a  hardy  and  determined  population,  unanimous  in 
their   adhesion  to  the  Pope — surely  something  might    have 
been  done  in  the  way  of  offering  a  successful  resistance,  even 
though   the   few  gentry  and  wealthier    citizens    had    chosen 
rather  to  have  recourse  to  flight.    The  panic  which  seized  the 
inhabitants  of  Veroli,  another  town  of  the  same  character  and 
in  the  same  neighbourhood,  was  sudden,  and  ludicrous  rather 
than  reprehensible,  and  might  have  hapjoened  perhaps  even  to 
men  of  stouter  hearts  and  more  determined  wills.     It  was  a 
market-day,  and  the  piazza  was  crowded  both  with  people 
and  with   goods ;    by  and  by  an  armed    force,  consisting  of 
some  of  Garibaldi's  legion — whose  name  was  a  perfect  terror 
throughout  tlie  country,  and  whose  looks  were  of  a  piece  with 
their  reputation — was  seen  to  enter  by  the  Porta  Romana. 
Already  the  poor  market-women  trembled  with  alarm,  and 
the  simple-minded  peasantry  began  to  apprehend  a  scene  of 
plunder  and  bloodshed,  when  one  of  the  foremost  of  the  band, 
either  by  chance  or  for  the  express  purpose  of  terrifying  the 
natives,  began  to  whet  the  axe  which  he  was  carrying,  as 
though  he  wished  to  sharpen  its  edge  for  immediate  execution. 
In  an  instant  the  people  were  seized  with  fright,  burst  forth 
into  screams  and  shrieks  of  distress,  and  the  whole  place  be- 
came a  scene  of  disorder.     The  villagers  from  the  neighbour- 
ing hills  catch  up  their  baskets  and  begin  to  run ;  the  baskets 
upset;  eggs,  fruit,  and  vegetables  are  tumbled  upon  the  pave- 
ment and  into  the  streets ;   these,  again,  cause  the  people  to 
stumble  and  fall,  and  then  others  fall  over  them,-  pigs  and 
poultry,  mules  and  asses,  cows,  goats,  and  sheep  run  hither 
and  thither,  infinitely  increasing  the  confusion ;   the  narrow 
streets  cannot  contain  the  mixed  multitudes  that  seek  to  enter 
them ;  more  especially  since  all  the  shop-keepers  are  rushing 


146  Anecdotes  of  the  Roman  Republic , 

out  to  put  up  tlie  sliutters  to  their  windows,  and  never  stop 
to  take  in  the  goods  that  hang  witliout  for  display ;  those  who 
are  farthest  from  their  homes  crowd  into  the  parish-church  as 
a  possible  sanctuary;  and  the  canons  who  are  engaged  in  sing- 
ing at  the  principal  Mass  of  the  day  hear  on  all  sides  of  them 
exclamations  that  the  town  is  being  sacked,  is  being  put  to 
fire  and  sword  ;  that   already  a   hundred   corpses  lie   in  the 
streets,  that  blood  is  flowing  in  torrents,  and  that  the  houses 
are  burning ;  and  without  staying  to  ask  how  or  by  whom 
these  things  are  being  done,  instantly  they  disappear.  Rochets, 
berrettas,  fur  tippets  and  capes,  bestrew  the  benches  ;  the  thu- 
rible lies  empty  on  the  ground,  the  smoking  coals  scattered 
around  it ;  and  only  the  priest  who  is  offering  the  Holy  Sacri- 
fice remains   at   the  altar.      He,  too,  after  reverently   con- 
suming the  Host,  retires  hurriedly  to  the  sacristy,  where  he 
sees  every  token  of  confusion,  but  none  of  his  reverend  col- 
leagues.    One  has  let  himself  down  from   a  window  into  a 
blind  alley,  where  he  has  taken  shelter  under  some  planks  of 
wood,  like   a  mouse  in  a  hole ;  presently  another,  who  had 
first  fled  to  the  bell-tower,  and  then,  not  thinking  himself  suf- 
flciently  secure,  had  made  his  escape  through  the  same  win- 
dow, draws  near  to  these  same  planks  with  the  intention  of 
creeping  under  them;   but,  being  greeted  by  an  earnest  en- 
treaty that  he  would  spare  somebody's  life,  he  turns  back  in 
alarm,  and  crawls  into  the  public  sewer;  and  so,  some  in  one 
way  and  some  in  another,  all  take  to  flight;  and  the  troops 
enter  the  deserted  market-place,  without  a  man,  woman,  or 
child  to  greet  them  there,  but  piles  of  disordered  baggage,  as 
though  it  had  been  the  fleld  of  a  bloodless  battle. 

All  this  is  ludicrous  enough  to  read  of,  and  must  have 
been  ludicrous  also  to  those  who  bore  a  part  in  it,  when  all 
their  mistake  had  been  discovered ;  but  there  were  other 
scenes  and  other  features  in  the  history  of  the  Roman  Republic 
which  call  forth  very  different  feelings.  We  will  not  here 
enter  again  upon  the  painful  subject  of  secret  societies; 
though  the  long  history  of  Lionello,  occupying  neariy  half  of 
this  Appendix,  introduces  to  us  man}^  new  and  yet  more  hor- 
rible circumstances  than  those  which  we  laid  before  our  rea- 
ders on  a  former  occasion.  For  the  present,  however,  we 
will  confine  ourselves  to  the  mention  of  oflfences  and  outrages 
of  a  more  ordinary  character,  beginning  with  those  in  which 
these  brave  republicans  seem  to  have  specially  delighted, 
against  the  weakest  and  most  defenceless  of  the  inhabitants  of 
Rome,  the  cloistered  nuns.  As  soon  as  the  famous  decree  of 
the  f2Tth  April,  1849,  had  been  passed,  whereby  the  Republic, 
"  in  the  name  of  God  and  of  the  people,"  cancelled  all  the  vowi 


Anecdotes  of  the  Roman  Republic,  147 

of  the  religious  of  both  sexes,  and  declared  them  to  be  utterly 
null  and  void,  certain  commissioners  ^appointed  for  the  pur- 
pose went  round  to  visit  all  the  convents.  Having  first  sum- 
moned the  Mother  Superioress,  they  ordered  her  to  assemble 
the  whole  community,  to  whom  they  then  read  the  absurdly 
grandiloquent  decree;  from  which  they  doubtless  anticipated 
some  considerable  results.  Their  offers  of  "  liberty"  were 
met  in  everi/  instance  either  with  silent  contempt  or  with 
clever  and  spirited  replies ;  but  in  no  convent  was  there  found 
a  single  nun  willing  to  avail  herself  of  them.  Exasperated 
by  this  refusal  of  their  proffered  kindness,  they  did  not  scruple 
to  make  use  of  the  most  gross  and  insulting  language  in  their 
interviews  with  these  chaste  spouses  of  Christ.  In  those  con- 
vents whose  inmates  were  devoted  to  the  work  of  education, 
the  commissioners  insisted  on  seeing  not  only  the  nuns  but 
also  the  scholars,  and  to  see  each  of  them  singly,  under  the 
pretence  of  satisfying  themselves  that  none  were  detained 
there  against  their  will.  And  knowing  the  general  character 
of  the  officers  employed  by  the  Republic,  we  scarcely  needed 
the  melancholy  assurances  of  Father  Bresciani,  that  they  were 
not  slow  to  avail  themselves  of  the  opportunities  thus  afforded 
them  to  insult  young  and  innocent  girls  with  impunity.  It 
is  even  stated  in  these  pages,  on  the  testimony  of  an  eye-wit- 
ness, that  a  proposal  was  made  in  the  Circolo  Fopolare,  and 
received  with  the  utmost  enthusiasm  by  those  who  frequented 
that  focus  of  every  thing  that  was  most  abominable,  to  remove 
all  the  nuns  in  Rome  from  their  several  homes,  and  arrange 
them  in  double  file  upon  the  walls  of  the  city  near  the  Porta 
San  Pancrazio  and  Porta  Portese,  where  the  cannonading  of 
the  besieging  army  was  most  vigorous  ;  and  that  this  scheme 
might  possibly  have  been  carried  into  execution  but  for  the 
interference  of  the  secretaries  and  consuls  of  some  of  the 
foreign  embassies  still  remaining  in  Rome. 

Nor  is  this  the  only  occasion  on  which,  according  to  our 
author,  the  interference  of  officials  connected  with  the  several 
legations  was  necessary  in  order  to  prevent  certain  excesses 
that  had  been  determined  on  by  the  rebels  when  they  found 
their  cause  was  desperate,  and  that  the  French  must  soon  be 
masters  of  the  city.  He  names  in  particular  the  Secretary  of 
the  French  Embassy  as  having  prevented  the  destruction  of 
St.  Peter's,  which  they  were  purposing  to  accomplish,  either 
by  the  explosion  of  eighty  barrels  of  gunpowder  placed  in  an 
excavation  to  be  made  under  each  corner  of  the  Basilica,  or 
by  setting  fire  to  vast  quantities  of  faggots  to  be  piled  together 
among  the  wood-work  of  the  roof.  Sixteen  conspirators  were 
employed  to  make  the  necessary  arrangements  for  the  execu- 


148  Anecdotes  of  the  Roman  Republic. 

turn  of  this  latter  plan ;  but  one  of  them,  touched  with  re- 
jnorse,  confided  the  secret  to  a  friend,  who  instantly  com- 
municated it  to  the  French  Secretar3\  This  official  at  first 
refused  to  believe  it  possible  that  so  monstrous  a  project  could 
be  entertained.  His  informant,  however,  under  a  promise  of 
the  strictest  secrecy,  procured  him  an  interview  with  the  re- 
pentant conspirator  himself;  and  being  thus  assured  of  the 
reality  of  the  plot,  the  Secretary  proceeded  at  once  to  the 
Quirinal.  Here,  by  means  of  threats  that  no  terms  should 
be  given  to  them  on  the  capture  of  the  city,  and  that  their 
lives  should  inevitably  be  the  forfeit  for  such  an  enormity,  he 
succeeded  in  obtaining  a  promise  from  the  triumvirs  that  the 
plan  should  not  be  carried  into  execution.  Nevertheless,  he 
did  not  think  it  altogether  superfluous  to  give  warning  to  the 
officials  of  St.  Peter's  themselves;  and  more  than  forty  per- 
sons were  afterwards  regularly  employed  day  and  night  in 
keeping  guard  over  the  several  parts  of  the  Basilica,  in  the 
subterranean  vaults,  on  the  roof,  at  all  the  different  en- 
trances, &c. 

Some  of  our  readers  may  be  disposed  to  think  this  story 
absolutely  incredible.     We  can  only  repeat  what  we  said  in 
our  former  notice  of  the  earlier  portion  of  this  work,  that  the 
autlior — and  the  author  "  is  an  honourable  man" — vouches 
for  its  truth.     Moreover,  it  is  notorious  that  the  republicans  at 
tempted  to  set  fire  to  the  other  Basilica  of  St.  Paul  ;  and  botl 
these  acts  only  belong  to  a  class  of  off'ences  for  which  they  cei 
tainly  had  no  distaste,  as  was  abundantly  shown  in  many  mine 
matters  during  their  short-lived  reign  of  violence  in  Rome 
Witness  their  destruction  of  the  bells,   for  example.     It  ij 
true  indeed  that,  in  their  published  decree,  they  promised  U 
exempt  from  destruction  all  bells  that  were  valuable  as  work^ 
of  art,  or  curious  and  venerable  for  their  antiquity,  or  on  anj 
other  consideration.      But   in   practice   no    such   distinctioi 
was  observed.     The  great  bells  of  the  Gesu,  for  instance^ 
which  had  once  hung  in  St.  Paul's,  London,  whilst  England 
was  still   Catholic,  were  amongst  the  first  to   be  broken  in 
pieces ;  so  also  the  bells  of  Saint  Agnese,  in  Piazza  Navona, 
which  struck  the  hours  and  regulated  all  the  hours  of  business 
in  that  large  and  busy  market ;  and  many  others  also ;  be- 
sides innumerable  precious  objects  of  art  in  the  sacristies  oi 
various  churches  in  Rome,  to  redeem  which  large  sums  ol 
money  were  sometimes  offered  in  vain. 

To  the  Ciiristian,  however,  painful  as  these  barbarisms 
may  be,  they  sink  into  insignificance  before  the  manifoh 
sacrileges  and  other  outrages  affecting  the  honour  and  glor^ 
of  God  and  the  salvation  of  men's  souls,  which  abounded  ii 


Anecdotes  of  the  Moman  RepuhUc,  149 

those  miserable  times.     Of  what  was  done  against  the  Blessed 
Sacrament  we  have  spoken  enough  before,  and  will  pass  over 
the  additional  particulars  contained  in  this  Appendix,     W® 
will  only  now  mention  the  scenes  which  were  daily  to  be  wit- 
nessed in  the  hospitals  when  once  the   siege  of  Rome  was 
fairly  begun.     Instead  of  Sisters  of  Charity,  women,  the  most 
abandoned  of  their  sex,  hovered  around  the  beds  of  the  dying; 
and  instead  of  the  grave  and  reverend  parroco  with  surplice 
and  stole,  bending  his  ear  down  to  the  lips  of  the  wounded 
soldier  so  as  to  receive  his  faint  but  humble  confession,  there 
stood  Gavazzi,  or  some  other  renegade  and  suspended  priest, 
clad  a  la  militairet  with  beard  and  moustache,  a  tricolor  cra- 
vat and  a  dagger  at  his  side,  the  handle  of  which  being  in 
the  form  of  a  cross  was  offered  to  the  dying  man  to  kiss  in- 
stead of  a  crucifix!     Finally,   instead  of  words  of  warning 
mingled  with  encouragement  addressed  to  the  poor  suffering 
sinner,  bidding  him  repent,  make  his  confession,  and  receive 
the  comforting  words  of  absolution,  he  was  told  that  death, 
encountered  in  fighting  for  one's  country,  was  a  species  of 
martyrdom  ;  that  in  such  a  case  there  was  no  need  of  confes- 
sion ;  that  the  blood  of  the  soldier  shed  on  the  classic  soil  of 
Rome  was  like  the  blood  of  Abel,  that  would  bring  forth  the 
fruits  of  eternal  life  ;  *'  only  say  with  your  lips,  or  at  least  in 
your  heart.  Viva  Vltalia,  and  your  sanctity  is  beyond  that  of 
St.  Stephen  or  St.  Laurence :  they  died  only  for  the  faith, 
you  die  for  the  faith  and  for  your  country  too ;  believe  in 
Italy,  and  I  give  you  absolution  in  the  name  of  God  and  of 
the  people."     That  such  horrible  profanations  of  the  Sacra- 
ment of  Penance  were  really  perpetrated  by  persons  of  the 
class  we  have  spoken  of  seems  only  too  certain  ;  and  when 
a  priest,  sent  by  the  proper  ecclesiastical  authorities,  came 
to  assist  in  these  hospitals,  he  was  received  with  scoffs  and 
insults,  and  not  allowed  to  exercise  his  holy  functions. 

But  enough  of  these  painful  matters :  let  us  conclude  our 
extracts  from  this  interesting  volume  with  an  anecdote  of  a 
more  cheerful  character,  which  will  be  read  with  special  in- 
terest by  our  friends  in  the  Emerald  Isle.  The  Irish  College 
in  Rome  displayed,  of  course,  the  British  flag  during  the  whole 
period  of  the  troubles,  and,  like  the  Scotch  and  the  English, 
offered  a  secure  asylum  to  some  of  the  saintly  clergy  who  were 
special  objects  of  revolutionary  hatred.  This  could  not  but  be 
suspected  by  those  who  knew  the  characters  of  their  respective 
Rectors,  even  if  more  accurate  information  had  not  been  ob- 
tained, as  was  only  too  probable,  by  means  of  spies.  Accord- 
ingly, a  party  of  republicans  presented  themselves  one  day  at 
the  gates  of  the  Irish  College  and  demanded  admittance,  un- 

VOL.  I. — NEW  SERIES.  M 


150  English  and  Poreign  Historians  : 

der  the  pretence  that  certain  thieves  had  secreted  themselves 
about  the  premises  with  the  intention  of  plundering  during 
the  night.  There  were  in  the  college  at  the  time  at  least 
three  Roman  ecclesiastics  whom  these  ruffians  would  gladly 
have  discovered,  his  Eminence  Cardinal  Castracane,  the  saintly 
Don  Vincenzo  Pallotta,  and  Don  Pietro  Sciamplicotti,  the 
parish-priest  of  Sta.  Maria  de'  Monti,  of  whom  they  were 
specially  in  quest.  However,  it  was  not  thought  prudent  to 
refuse  admittance,  and  the  soldiers  prosecuted  their  search 
with  all  diligence.  On  entering  one  of  the  larger  rooms,  they 
found  apparently  all  the  students  standing  together  in  a  group  j 
and,  satisfied  witli  the  sight,  they  passed  on  to  another,  little 
dreaming  that  Cardinal  Castracane  himself  had  been  in  the 
midst  of  this  very  conspicuous  group,  but  expecting  rather  to 
find  him  in  some  remote  corner  of  the  house.  By  some  sin- 
gular accident,  or  rather  by  the  over-ruling  providence  of 
God,  they  altogether  overlooked  the  room  in  which  Don  V. 
Pallotta  was  concealed ;  whilst  in  another  cell  they  found  a 
student  lying  dangerously  ill  in-  his  bed,  and  a  priest  sitting 
by  his  side  with  a  stole  round  his  neck  and  a  ritual  in  his 
hand,  his  back  turned  towards  the  door,  apparently  engaged 
in  some  spiritual  duty;  this  was  no  other  than  Sciamplicotti, 
The  soldiers  closed  the  door,  however,  and  passed  on  ;  uoi 
was  their  search  rewarded  by  a  single  discovery  such  as  thej 
desired. 


ENGLISH  AKD  FOREIGN  HISTORIANS  :  THE  MASSAC] 
OF  ST.  BARTHOLOMEW. 

Lectures  on  the  History  of  France.  2  vols.  By  the  Righl 
Honourable  Sir  James  Stephen,  Professor  of  Modern  His- 
tory in  the  University  of  Cambridge.  Longman  :  London. 

Civil  Wars  and  Monarchy  in  Fiance  in  the  Sixteenth  and 
Seventeenth  Centuries  :  a  History  of  France^  principally 
during  that  period,  2  vols.  By  Leopold  Ranke.  London  : 
Bentley, 

A  Chronicle  of  the  Reign  of  Charles  IX,  By  Prosper  Me- 
rimee.     London :  Bentley. 

History  has  got  a  bad  name :  it  has  been  called  one  vas^ 
conspiracy  against  the  truth.  Nor  can  we  well  wonder  at  it 
History  has  fallen  into  bad  hands  and  been  put  to  evil  uses: 
has  become  the  confederate  and  the  tool  of  the  heretic  and  th( 
infidel.     With  one  important  qualification,  then,  we  repeat  the 


the  Massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew,  151- 

charge ;  history,  as  the  world  writes  it,  is  indeed  one  vast  con- 
spiracy against  the  Church  of  God  ;  and  so  wide-spread  are  its 
ramifications,  and  so  deep-laid  its  schemes,  that  we  entertain 
no  hope  of  its  being  detected  and  exposed  until  the  great  "  day 
of  manifestation."  Besides,  its  author  is  a  person  of  consum- 
mate tact  and  sagacity.  The  "  father  of  lies,"  who  is  the 
"god  of  this  world,"  takes. good  care  that  the  annals,  not  only 
of  his  own  realm,  but  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven  on  earth,  are 
written  by  his  own  friends  and  disciples,  and  that  the  crimes 
he  has  induced  men  to  commit  are  turned  to  the  discredit  of 
the  religion  against  which  they  were  committed.  And  most 
effectually  has  the  work  been  accomplished.  It  is  often  mat- 
ter of  wonder  to  us,  as  we  glance  at  some  popular  school- 
book,  or  consult  some  standard  manual  of  reference,  or  peruse 
some  of  those  lively  memoirs  or  brilliant  historical  sketches 
with  which  the  age  abounds,  or  merely  open  at  random  some 
of  those  multitudinous  volumes,  made  so  tempting  to  the  eye, 
whicii  fill  the  shelves  and  strew  the  counters  of  our  thriving 
booksellers,  —  it  is  matter  to  us  as  well  of  astonishment  as  of 
thankfulness  to  the  Giver  of  all  grace,  that  any  member  of  the 
Englisli  reading-public  should  ever  have  succeeded  in  disabus- 
ing his  mind  of  the  prejudices  with  which  from  his  infancy 
it  had  been  saturated,  and  recognising  in  the  begrimed  and 
blood-stained  visage  of  the  "  Church  of  Rome,"  as  represented 
by  its  satirists,  the  pure  and  immortal  features  of  the  Bride  of 
Christ. 

Yet  even  history,  depraved  and  lost  as  it  is,  seems  occa- 
sionally to  relent  and  revenge  itself  on  its  masters.  Or  rather, 
truth  is  mighty  after  all,  and  sometimes  prevails  even  in  this 
w-orld.  All  heretics  are  not  bigots;  and  infidels  and  indif- 
ferentists  are  not  wanting  in  natural  honesty,  and  are  often 
remarkable  for  intellectual  acuteness.  Protestants  of  the 
Exeter- Hall  stamp  are  of  course  incorrigible;  they  have 
their  own  readings  in  history  as  in  Scripture,  which  set  facts 
no  less  than  reason  and  common  sense  at  defiance.  There 
**  Mumpsimus"  ever  lives  and  reigns  with  a  majesty  undimi- 
nished and  a  supremacy  undisputed.  But  of  late  years,  not 
only  in  France  and  Germany,  but  even  in  Protestant  England, 
men  have  arisen  who  fearlessly  assailed  the  august  traditions  of 
their  fathers;  not  to  mention  those  whose  candid  research  led 
them  to  the  very  borders  of  the  Catholic  Church,  and  in  some 
cases  was  rewarded  with  the  gift  of  faith,  who  can  estimate 
the  services  which  a  Maitland, — honour  be  to  his  name ! — has 
rendered  to  the  cause  of  truth;  not  only  by  exposing  and  over- 
throwing many  a  cherished  fallacy  and  falsehood,  but  by  en^ 
gendering  a  suspicion  in  the  minds  of  the  thoughtful  and  con- 


152  English  and  Foreign  Historians  : 

scientious,  that  authorities  the  most  venerable  are  not  always 
to  be  trusted,  and  that  in  determining  critical  points  of  his- 
tory it  is  well  to  go  to  original  sources,  and  not  to  commit 
oneself  without  reserve  to  unqualified  statements. 

But,  without  doubt,  whatever  change  for  the  better  has 
been  wrought  in  this  respect,  is  very  greatly  due  to  the  im- 
portation into  this  country  of  the  works  of  tlie  more  distin- 
guished continental  historians,  many  of  which,  by  a  candid 
and  temperate  statement  of  facts,  have  insensibly  removed  a 
vast  amount  of  prejudice  and  misconception,  and  introduced 
quite  a  new  order  of  ideas  among  those  who  read  for  informa- 
tion and  not  merely  for  amusement ;  the  more  so  because  the 
sympathies  of  the  authors  were  unmistakably  on  the  Pro- 
testant side,  and  it  was  plain  they  were  stating  in  all  simpli- 
city what  pains-taking  research  had  shown  them  to  be  the 
truth,  without  a  misgiving  that  they  were  thereby  rendering 
the  most  favourable  sort  of  testimony  to  the  religion  which 
Englishmen  had  been  taught  to  regard  with  abhorrence  and 
contempt.  They  have  written,  in  short,  like  men  who  sought, 
not  to  uphold  a  party  or  defend  a  position,  but  to  publish 
ascertained  facts,  whatever  they  might  be,  and  whatever  the 
consequence  of  making  them  known  ;  and  the  result  is  that, 
short-sighted  and  erroneous — on  many  points  essentially  and 
deplorably  so — as  their  views  often  are,  they  have  neverthe- 
less succeeded  in  placing  the  student  of  history  at  a  point  of  i 
observation  from  which,  if  he  pursues  his  investigations  o 
the  data  presented  to  him,  he  may,  and  must  if  he  is  true  t 
his  principles,  get  a  sight  of  a  whole  range  of  phenomena 
which  are  perfectly  irreconcilable  with  the  hereditary  belief 
as  to  the  historical  relations  between  Protestantism  and  the 
Church. 

Of  course,  the  remarks  here  made  are  by  no  means  of  uni- 
versal application.  There  are  French  writers  of  history, — or 
what  goes  by  that  name, — who  are  quite  as  servile  compilers  of 
old  used-up  materials,  and  quite  as  narrow-minded  and  un- 
trustworthy as  any  of  our  Protestant  traditionalists  ;  and  we 
have  therefore  purposely  limited  our  commendation  to  par- 
ticular authors  of  later  years.  On  this  subject  it  is  observed 
by  Ranke,  whom  we  might  select,  as  perhaps  olie  of  the  most 
remarkable  examples  of  the  class  we  are  speaking  of,  that 
"  the  contemporary  writings  (of  the  ]6th  and  17th  centuries) 
carry  in  their  vivid  colouring  the  impress  of  the  moment  in 
which  each  originated,  and  are  for  the  most  part  imbued  witl: 
the  peculiar  views  of  parties  or  of  private  individuals.  Ofth 
traditional  history  which  has  been  formed  since  Mezeray's  time, 
and  the  manner  in  which  Sismondi  has  extended  (continued  ?) 


)fi 

I 

.^1 


the  Massacre  of  St,  Bartholomew,  153 

it,  learned  Frenchmen  have  long  since  remarked  how  Insecure 
the  foundation  is  upon  which  it  is  based.  In  a  few  instance* 
this  traditional  authority  has  been  departed  from;  but  it  has 
been  on  the  whole  submitted  to." 

But  writers  like  Ranke  not  only  demolish  without  re- 
morse the  most  time-honoured  traditions,  if  they  are  proved 
to  be  false,  but  they  are  impatient  with  conclusions  which 
have  been  made  to  rest  on  inadequate  grounds  ;  and  more 
than  this,  which  is  a  strong  protection  on  the  side  of  truth, 
thiey  are  in  no  hurry  to  come  to  a  conclusion  because  to  rule 
a  set  of  circumstances  in  this  or  that  way  would  subserve  a 
particular  purpose  or  suit  a  particular  party,  or  merely  be- 
cause any  conclusion  is  better  than  uncertainty,  and  not  to 
have  a  definite  opinion  on  some  critical  point  might  argue, 
if  not  indolence  in  research,  yet  want  of  decision,  or  deficiency 
in  the  power  of  striking  a  balance  between  conflicting  testi- 
monies. This  we  think  to  be  one  peculiar  characteristic  of 
the  writers  to  whom  we  refer,  more  particularly  those  of  Ger- 
many. They  do  not  come  to  a  conclusion  on  what  they  per- 
ceive to  be  non-sufficient  grounds ;  they  weigh  the  evidence 
before  them,  and  give  their  opinion  as  to  which  side  it  inclines; 
but  they  are  content  to  wait  the  accession  of  fresh  data  before 
pronouncing  a  final  judgment.  Thus  they  continue  patiently 
pursuing  their  researches;  and  from  time  to  time  make  known 
to  the  public  the  result  so  far  as  they  have  proceeded,  carefully 
discriminating  between  what  is  still  doubtful,  however  probable, 
and  what  has  been  ascertained  to  be  authentic  and  credible. 

These  thoughts  have  been  suggested  to  us  by  the  three 
works  which  we  have  placed  at  the  head  of  our  article,  in  re- 
ference to  an  event  which  has  been  made  the  foundation  of 
a  most  monstrous  charge  against  the  Pope  and  the  Court  of 
Rome,  and  indeed  against  the  Catholic  Church  in  general, — the 
massacre  of  the  Huguenots  on  St.  Bartholomew's  day,  1572. 
Few  historical  questions  have  been  more  passionately  discussed, 
or  seem  less  capable  of  a  decisive  solution.  Was  the  massacre 
premeditated  or  not?  If  premeditated,  for  how  long  a  time 
was  the  design  entertained  ?  Any  how,  who  were  its  authors  ? 
Was  the  king  privy  to  the  intended  assassination  of  Coligny? 
What  part  did  Charles  IX.  or  the  Duke  of  Guise  take  in  the 
affair  ?  Did  they  lead,  or  did  they  only  follow  ?  What  were 
the  immediate  causes  of  the  crime  ?  Our  readers  need  not  be 
alarmed ;  we  have  no  intention  of  entering  into  the  pros  and 
cons  of  the  question  ;  our  only  object  is  to  state  how  the 
matter  at  present  stands,  and  that  for  a  purpose  which  will 
appear  ere  we  close. 

We  have  said  that  history  sometimes  revenges  itself,  and 


154  English  and  Foreign  IIistoria?is  : 

we  may  also  say,  ludicrously  revenges  itself,  on  its  betrayers  j 
and  the  catastrophe  of  which  we  are  about  to  speak  affords  an 
instance  in  point.  The  great  English  Protestant  tradition  is 
bold,  and  strong,  and  broad  on  the  subject ;  it  does  not  mince 
the  matter  in  the  least ;  it  has  not  a  doubt  in  the  world  that 
the  horrible  deed  was  premeditated,  and  the  whole  plot  ])lari- 
ned  and  matured  as  good  as  six  long  years  before.  Why  every 
body  knows,  or  ought  to  know,  that 

"  A  meeting  was  concerted  at  Bayonne  between  Charles  and  his 
sister,  the  Queen  of  Spain.  Catherine  accompanied  her  son ;  the 
Duke  of  Alva  attended  his  mistress.  Festivities  and  gaieties  of 
every  kind  occupied  each  day.  All  apparently  respired  joy  and 
peace  ;  but  the  tempest  was  secretly  brewing  in  the  summer  sky. 
A  Iiohj  league  was  formed  (a.d.  I.')66)  between  the  courts  of  France 
and  Spain  :  the  glory  of  God  was  to  be  promoted  ;   heresy  in  t])e 

dominions  of  both  was  to  be  extir})ated (a.i».  1572)  The 

treachery  long  meditated  against  the  Protestants  was  now  ripe. 
Charles  assumed  the  appearance  of  the  utmost  liberality  of  senti- 
ment;  a  marriage  was  proposed  between  his  sister  Margaret  and« 
the  young  king  of  Navarre.  All  the  great  leaders  of  the  Protes-S 
tants  went  to  Paris  to  the  celebration  of  it.  Tliey  were  received 
with  smiles  and  caresses  by  the  king  and  the  queen-mother.  All  was 
festivity  till  the  eve  of  St.  Bartholomew  (August  24)  arrived,  when, 
by  the  secret  orders  oftlie  king  aiid  the  queen-mother,  a  bloody  and 
indiscriminate  massacre  of  the  Protestants  commenced."  fll 

So  writes  Mr.  Keightley,  following  the  dominant  traditioiiBI 
in  his  Outlines  of  History  ;  and  every  staunch  thorough-going 
Protestant  to  this  day*  repeats  the  story  verbatim,  Mr.  K.'s 
volume  appeared  in  Lardner's  Cabinet  Cyclopcedia  in  the  year 
18o0;  in  the  following  year  came  cut  tlie  third  volume  of  Sir 
James  M'dckintosh's  History  of  England,  continued  from  his 
papers  by  another  hand.  Here  the  whole  question  was  rea- 
soned out,  and  we  think  on  the  whole  very  fairly;  but  it 
amusing  to  see  that  the  writer,  w  bile  maintaining  that  Charle 
was  privy  to  the  design  of  assassinating  the  admiral,  and  tha 
the  massacre  was  undoubtedly  premeditated,  distinctly  dis- 
claims the  statement  made  by  his  brother  cyclopa^dist,  his 
elder  but  by  one  year,  as  to  tlie  length  of  time  that  inter- 
vened between  the  formation  of  the  plot  and  its  execution. 
*'  It  is  not  conter.dcd,"  he  says,  "  that  the  time,  place,  and 
manner  were  concerted  two  years  beforehand.  Nothin 
more  is  maintained  than  that  the  pacification,  the  Flemish 
war  project,  and  the  marriage,  covered  a  treacherous  desi 
against  the  Huguenots,  and  that  their  extermination  was,  i 
pursuance  of  it,  attempted  en  St.  Bartholomew's  eve."  Thi 
gentlen)an,  therefore,  reduces  the  time  during  which  the  idei 
of  the  massacre  was  entertained  to  the  space  oi  two  years 


I 


the  Massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew.  155 

four  years  after  the  interview  at  Bayonne,  which  Mr.  Keight- 
ley  categorically  asserts  to  be  the  date  at  which  the  plot  was 
concerted. 

But  the  progress  of  reduction  does  not  stop  here.  Sir 
James  Stephen,  who,  for  all  bis  affected  liberality,  deals  out 
but  a  hard  measure  of  justice  wherever  Catbolics  are  concerned 
(as  we  shall  presently  sliow),  favours  a  different  view  of  the 
transaction.  After  speaking  of  the  pacification  of  1570,  the 
projected  expedition  against  Flanders,  and  tbe  marriage  of  the 
young  king  of  Navarre, — the  very  circumstances  which  Sir 
James  Mackintosh's  continuator  contends  were  but  coverings 
to  a  treacherous  design, — he  says :  *''  To  ascribe  all  these  acts 
...  to  the  desire  of  blinding  the  eyes  of  the  Huguenots  to 
the  fate  impending  over  them  is  an  error  into  which  no  one 
will  fall  who  has  had  to  do  with  public  affairs.  .  .  .  Doubt- 
less the  massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew  was  a  crime  committed 
by  Catherine  and  her  sons  and  her  councillors  deliberately 
and  with  premeditation :"  he  has  no  doubt  that  the  massacre 
was  premeditated ;  but  he  sees  no  reason  for  supposing 
treachery  on  the  part  of  Charles  or  his  mother  at  the  time 
of  the  pacification.  On  the  contrary,  he  states  the  causes 
which,  in  his  opinion,  led  to  *'  the  departure  of  Catherine  in 
August  1572  from  the  policy  which  in  August  1570  had 
dictated  the  treaty  of  St.  Germains;  and  his  conclusion  is, 
that  "  although  the  methods  taken  at  last  to  assemble  the 
whole  Huguenot  aristocracy  at  Paris,  and  so  bring  them 
within  her  power,  may  indicate  that  she  cherished  an  in- 
sidious design  against  them  during  some  weeks  before  the 
actual  perpetration  of  the  massacre,  we  need  not  suppose  it 
to  have  been  preceded  by  a  deliberate  hypocrisy  maintained 
during  two  whole  years  of  avowed  and  seeming  friendship." 
Thus  he  reduces  the  time  of  premeditation  to  ^' some  weeks 
before;"  and  even  this  he  does  not  state  positively,  merely 
insinuating  that  the  circumstance  of  assembling  the  whole 
Huguenot  aristocracy  at  Paris  for  the  celebration  of  the 
marriage, — which,  by  the  way,  was  a  very  natural  thing  to 
do,  considering  the  marriage  w^as  intended  as  a  sort  of  solemn 
union  between  the  two  parties,  and  Sir  James  had  a  few 
lines  before  numbered  its  celebration  among  the  acts  which 
could  not  reasonably  be  imputed  to  the  desire  of  blinding  the 
eyes  of  the  Protestants, — "  ??iO'?/ indicate  that  Catherine  che- 
rished an  insidious  design."  Any  how,  the  premeditation  of 
six  years  has,  by  the  manipulation  of  this  triad  of  historians, 
dwindled  down  to  a  design  of  "  some  weeks"  formation  ;  from 
all  which  this  at  least  is  sufficiently  apparent,  that  nothing  as 
yet  has  been  conclusively  ascertained  concerning  the  origin  of 


156  English  and  Foreign  Historians: 

the  massacre;  and  certainly  it  is  very  far  from  having  been 
positively  demonstrated  that  the  deed  was  premeditated,  as 
the  popular  Protestant  tradition  so  stoutly  asserts. 

But  what  if  there  were  no  plot  after  all;  and  the  massacre 
were  the  result,  not  of  policy  and  premeditation,  but  of  a 
sudden  popular  rising?  This  is  the  position  taken  up  by 
M.  Prosper  Merimee,  a  writer  any  thing  but  friendly  to  the 
Church,  and  the  author  of  several  historical  and  quasi-his- 
torical works,  which  have  been  favourably  received  in  this 
country.  The  work  from  which  we  are  about  to  quote, 
though  entitled  a  "  Chronicle,"  is,  in  fact,  a  romance  ;  and 
that,  as  we  took  occasion  to  observe  in  our  last,  of  a  very  ob- 
jectionable character  ;  and  we  draw  attention  to  it  only  for  the 
sake  of  the  preface,  which  contains  some  pertinent  remarks  on 
the  subject  of  this  article,  as  well  as  on  the  way  in  which 
history  is  commonly  written  and  read.  We  should  premise 
that  he  starts  by  saying  he  had  just  been  reading  a  large 
number  of  memoirs  and  pamphlets  relating  to  the  end  of  the 
16th  century,  so  that  he  comes  to  the  subject  with  a  mind 
fresh  from  the  study  of  the  times. 

"  Have  the  causes,"  he  asks,  "  which  led  to  this  massacre  been 
fairly  understood  ?  Was  it  the  result  of  long  previous  meditation, 
or  of  a  sudden  determination,  or  of  chance  ?  To  all  these  quesjtions 
no  existing  historian  gives  me  any  satisfactory  answers.  They  ad- 
mit as  proofs  popular  rumours  and  pretended  conversations,  which 
have  very  little  weight  when  one  has  to  decide  an  historical  point  of 
such  importance.  Some  make  Charles  IX.  a  prodigy  of  dissimula- 
tion ;  others  represent  him  as  peevish,  whimsical,  and  impatient.  If 
at  anytime  previous  to  the  24th  of  August  he  burst  into  threats 
against  the  Protestants,  it  is  a  proof  that  he  had  long  been  meditating 
their  ruin;  if  he  caresses  them,  it  is  a  proof  that  he  was  dissembling 
his  real  intentions.  .  .  .  For  my  own  part,  I  am  firmly  convinced  that 
the  massacre  was  not  premeditated ;  and  I  cannot  conceive  why  the 
opposite  opinion  should  have  been  adopted  by  authors  who,  at  the 
same  time,  agree  in  representing  Catherine  as  a  very  wicked  woman, 
it  is  true,  but  as  one  of  the  profoundest  politicians  of  the  age  in 
which  she  lived." 

He  then  gives  his  reasons  for  the  view  he  entertains, 
which,  though  they  do  not  prove  that  no  conspiracy  existed, 
suggest,  it  must  be  confessed,  strong  grounds  for  believing  the 
contrary.     He  concludes  by  saying  : 

"  Every  thing  seems  to  me  to  prove  that  this  great  massacre  was 
not  the  result  of  a  conspiracy  of  a  king  against  a  portion  of  his 
people.  It  appears  to  me  to  have  been  the  consequence  of  a  popu- 
lar insurrection,  whicli  could  not  have  been  foreseen,  and  which  was 
altogether  extemporaneous  and  unpremeditated.'* 


1 


the  Massacre  of  St*  Bartholomew,  157^ 

On  the  whole,  he  is  decidedly  of  opinion  that  neither  the 
king  nor  the  queen-mother  were  tlie  instigators  of  the  slaugh- 
ter, nor  had  any  previous  knowledge  of  the  matter.  Whether 
the  Duke  of  Guise  was  the  author,  at  the  king's  suggestion 
or  with  his  consent,  of  the  attempt  on  the  admiral's  life, 
or  whether  he  had  really  any  part  in  the  affair,  he  is  un- 
able to  decide ;  but  he  inclines  to  the  belief  that  the  duke 
was  induced  to  get  Coligny  assassinated,  or  was  afterwards 
publicly  charged  by  the  king,  who  wished  to  get  rid  both  of 
him  and  the  admiral,  with  the  attempt ;  and  that  being 
*'  banished  from  court,  and  menaced  by  the  king  as  well  as  by 
the  Protestants,  he  was  obliged  to  look  to  the  people  for  help. 
He  calls  together  the  leaders  of  the  burgher  guard,  tells  them 
of  a  conspiracy  on  the  part  of  the  heretics,  exhorts  them  to 
exterminate  them  before  their  designs  are  ripe,  and  then  only 
the  massacre  is  thought  of."  He  gives  this  simply  as  his 
opinion,  a  "supposition"  and  nothing  more  ;  for,  like  all  who 
have  looked  into  the  facts  of  the  case  and  do  not  write  for  an 
object,  he  considers  sufficient  data  are  wanting  for  solving  the 
riddle. 

And  so  the  question  rests,  and  in  all  probability  will  con- 
tinue to  rest  until  the  day  of  doom.  Ranke  does  not  pretend 
to  have  made  up  his  mind  about  it.  With  regard  to  the 
meeting  at  Bayonne  mentioned  above,  he  is  of  opinion  that  a 
proposal  was  made  by  some  of  the  Catholic  nobles  for  assassi- 
nating certain  of  the  chiefs  of  the  Huguenot  faction ;  but 
declares  it  to  be  "  a  great  error  to  believe  that  either  the 
young  king  or  the  queen-mother  was  a  party  to  their  designs, 
or  that  the  plan,  as  concerted,  was  to  be  executed  by  them," 
or  had  any  thing  to  say  to  the  massacre.  He  gives  in  a  note  the 
**  natural  history  "  of  the  tradition.  As  to  the  massacre  itself, 
he  balances  the  evidence  for  and  against  premeditation  on  Ca- 
therine's part  ;  the  king  he  considers  to  have  been  sincere  in  his 
conduct  to  Coligny  personally,  and  to  the  Huguenots  generally  ; 
but  hesitates  to  decide  one  way  or  the  other.  That  she  had 
been  for  years  preparing  for  the  catastrophe,  he  is  far  from 
thinking ;  and  yet,  on  the  other  hand,  he  is  not  prepared  to 
admit  that  it  was  the  effect  of  a  momentary  fit  of  rage.  As 
one  of  the  two  views  he  propounds,  and  to  which,  on  the 
whole,  he  seems  himself  to  lean,  happens  to  fall  in  with  that 
we  had  been  led  ourselves  to  adopt,  we  will  give  it  partly  in 
our  own  way,  and  partly  in  the  words  of  his  narrative  so  far 
as  they  suit  our  purpose.  It  is  in  the  main,  we  may  remark, 
the  view  which  Dr.  Lingard  took  in  his  controversy  with 
Allen,  and  which  was  so  singularly  confirmed  by  the  letters 
written  in  cipher  to   the   Pope  by  Salviati,  nuncio  at   the 


158  English  and  Foreign  Historians  : 

French  court  at  the  time  of  tlie  massacre;  and  which  were  dis- 
.covered  hy  M.  Chateaubriand  in  the  library  of  the  Vatican 
while  it  \vas  at  Paris.  But  we  must  first  introduce  our 
readers  to  the  two  most  prominent  personages  of  the  time,  and, 
iis  most  people  would  say,  the  principal  actors  in  the  great 
tragedy,  Catherine  of  Medicis  and  her  son  Charles  IX.  We 
will  avail  ourselves  of  the  services  of  M.  Merimee  as  our 
master  of  ceremonies,  than  whom  we  could  not  have  a  better. 
The  description  occurs  in  an  amusing  episode,  which  he  en- 
titles **  A  Dialogue  between  the  Reader  and  the  Author." 

"  Picture  to  yourself,"  he  says,  "  a  young  man  tolerably  well 
made,  with  his  head  somewhat  buried  between  his  shoulders  ;  he 
stretches  his  neck  forward  witii  a  good  deal  of  awkwardness  ;  his 
riose  is  rather  large,  his  lips  are  long  and  thin,  and  the  upper  one 
projects  a  good  deal ;  his  complexion  is  wan,  and  his  great  green 
eyes  never  look  at  the  person  to  wliom  lie  is  speaking.  By  the 
way,  you  can't  read  in  his  eyes  the  words  Saint  Bartholomew, 
or  any  thing  of  the  kind.  In  fact,  there  is  notliing  at  all  written  in 
tiiem  ;  only  their  expression  is  rather  stupid  and  restless  than  stern 
and  fierce.  You  will  form  a  pretty  correct  idea  of  him  if  you  fancy 
a  young  man  entering  alone  into  a  large  drawing-room,  in  which 
every  one  else  is  seated.  He  walks  through  a  double  line  of  vvell- 
■dressed  ladies,  who  become  silent  when  he  passes.  Treading  on  the 
dress  of  one,  and  jostling  the  chair  of  another,  he  has  great  difficulty 
in  making  his  way  to  the  lady  of  the  house  ;  and  then  only  he  per- 
-ceives  that,  as  he  got  down  from  his  carriaii;e  at  the  door  of  the 
house,  the  sleeve  of  his  coat  rubbed  against  die  wheel,  and  became 
•covered  with  mud.  Perhaps  you  may  never  have  seen  the  face  of 
^ny  one  in  such  a  position.  Then  take  another  supposition:  Did 
you  ever  catch  a  glimpse  of  your  own  face  in  a  glass,  before  prac- 
tice had  rendered  you  equal  to  the  task  of  entering  a  room?" 

"  And  Catherine  de  Medici  ?" 

"  Catherine  de  Medici !  Deuce  take  it !  I  had  quite  forgotten 
her.  I  hope  I  have  now  written  her  name  for  the  last  time.  She  is 
a  fat  woman,  still  in  her  bloom,  and,  as  the  saying  is,  rather  good- 
looking  for  her  age  ;  with  a  large  nose  and  pinched  lips,  like  some 
one  suffering  a  first  attack  of  sea-sickness.  Her  eyes  are  half- 
closed;  she  yawns  at  every  moment;  her  voice  is  monotonous,  and 
she  says  in  the  same  tone,  'Ah!  who  will  rid  me  of  that  odious 
Bearnaise?'  and  *  Madeline,  give  some  sugared  milk  to  my  Italian 
greyhound.'  " 

"  Very  good!  But  make  her  utter  some  more  remarkable  words 
than  these.  She  has  just  poisoned  Jeanne  d'Albert;  at  least  j  ublic 
report  says  so,  and  that  ought  to  appear." 

**  Not  at  all ;  for  if  that  did  appear,  where  would  be  her  cele- 
brated dissinmlation  ?  On  the  day  in  question,  moreover,  I  am 
credibly  informed  she  spoke  about  nothing  but  tie  weather." 

This  is  true  portrait-painting,  and  we  wish  our  author  had 


the  Massacre  of  St,  Bartholomew.  153 

given  us  more  of  the  same  kind.     However,  now  for  Ranke's 
graver  narrative,  w-hich  we  will  give,  as  we  have  said,  partly 
in  our  own  words  and  partly  in  those  of  the  author,  or  ratiier 
the  translator.     Catherine's  earliest  recollections  carried  her 
back,  not  to  days  of  infancy  such  as  most  other  princesses 
remembered  when  they  grew  up  in  peace,  surrounded  with 
every   watchful   solicitude,   but  to   scenes  of  the  fiercest  re- 
ligious and  political  animosity.     As  a  fatherless  and  mother- 
less orphan,  she  was  placed  in  a  convent  at  Florence ;  but  the 
imns  took  part  for  and  against  her,  so  that  it  was  found  neces- 
sary  to   remove  her  from  it;  she  passed   through  its  doors 
weeping  violently,  for  she  feared  she  was  going  to  be  put  to 
death.     She  was  doomed,  however,  to  live,  and  to  spend  her 
liie,  not  as  an  Italian,  but  as  a  French  princess;  and  in  the 
country  of  her  adoption  her  intellect  and  her  destiny  led  her 
on  from  step  to  step  in  a  continual  ascent  to  power.      At 
one    time  she  was  in  danger  of  being  repudiated  for  being 
childless  by  her  husband  ;   but  her  readiness  to  suffer  all  that 
might  fall  upon  her, — either  to  retire  to  a  convent  or  to  re- 
main at  court,  in  order  to  wait  upon  the  more  fortunate  wife 
who  should  succeed  her, — disarmed  all  antipathy.     At  length 
she  had  children  ;  but  still,  excluded  from  all  affcdrs,  she  ap- 
peared to  live  only  for  her  husband,  her  attendants,  and  a  few 
personal  favourites.     For  processions,  dances,  and  plays  she 
possessed  a  naturally  inventive  (acuity,  and  was  the  very  soul 
of  every  festivity;  after  the  fashion  of  the  time  she  also  took 
part  in   manly  recreations ;    she   was  esteemed  amiable,   in- 
genious, and  affable,  and  those  who  listened  to  her  discourse 
were  pleased  and  instructed.      She  said  in  after  times  that 
nothing  lay  then  upon  lier  heart  but  the  love  of  her  husband, 
and  tliat  her  sole  anxiety  was  that  she  was  not  beloved  by 
him  as  she  desired;  when  he  was  absent  from  the  court  during 
his  campaigns  she  wore  mourning.     She  believed  herself  to 
possess  the  power  of  second  sight,  and  that  she  was  made 
aware  beforehand,  either  by  an  apparition  or  by  a  dream,  of 
every  misfortune  which  befell  any  member  of  her  family ;  she 
even  stated  that  she  had  had  a  warning  of  the  fatal  accident 
which  deprived  her  of  her  husband  in  the  tournament.      She 
would  never  afterwards  enter  the  place  where  it  was  held;  and 
her  carriage  took  a  round  whenever  it  was  necessary  to  pass 
that  way. 

Such  is  Catherine's  picture  while  she  remained  in  private 
life;  a  flattering  one  we  should  say,  with  a  lew  of  the  darker 
shades  omitted;  but  with  the  accession  of  her  second  son  to  the 
throne  her  public  and  political  career  began.  In  her  earlier 
years  she  is  said  to  have  had  an  inclination  for  Protestantism, 


160  English  and  Foreign  Historians  : 

and  it  is  possible  she  may  have  had  her  fits  of  heterodoxy,  hke 
other  fashionable  ladies  of  an  infamously  immoral  court ;  but 
she  was  astute  enough  to  see  that  poUtically  it  would  be  but 
an  unprofitable  speculation.  "  Catholicism,"  she  said,  **  is 
the  religion  of  kings  and  states;"  this  was  her  creed.  For 
religion  in  itself  she  cared  just  nothing  at  all,  except  so  far  as 
it  could  be  made  subservient  to  the  interests  of  government. 
Whatever  faith  she  retained  was  overlaid  with  a  superstitious 
curiosity  about  the  mysterious  and  the  marvellous.  On  one 
of  the  towers  of  her  castle  at  Blois  a  pavilion  is  pointed  out 
which  was  used  by  her  astrologer  for  his  observations.  She 
has  been  charged  with  favouring  a  school  of  atheism  then 
founded  at  the  French  court,  which  doubted  of  the  immor- 
tality of  the  soul,  but  attributed  unbounded  power  to  the 
heavenly  intelligences  and  the  influence  of  demons.  Amulets 
are  also  exhibited,  which  are  said  to  have  been  worn  by  her, 
composed  of  human  blood,  and  inscribed  with  talismanic  cha- 
racters. 

Continuous  and  even  violent  exercise  was  absolutely  neces- 
sary to  her :  she  rode  to  the  chase  by  the  side  of  men ;  and 
after  daringly  following  the  game  through  brakes  and  thickets, 
gave  herself  without  restraint  to  the  pleasures  of  the  table. 
At  the  same  time  she  was  indefatigably  occupied  with  affairs 
of  state,  and  artfully  prepared  the  way  for  the  secure  posses- 
sion of  that  absolute  authority  at  which  she  aimed.  She 
favoured  the  Protestant  party  so  long  as  it  suited  her  purpose, 
and  as  a  counterpoise  to  the  influence  of  the  Guises,  whose 
power  she  dreaded.  She  hoped,  by  equalising  these  antago- 
nistic forces,  to  steady  herself  on  the  height  to  which  she  was 
gradually  ascending.  She  felt  the  shock  of  opposing  interests 
all  about  her ;  but  herself,  like  a  rock  in  the  surging  waves, 
remained  to  all  appearance  impassive  and  unmoved.  In  her 
own  chamber  she  was  transported  with  anger  and  grief;  but 
when  the  hour  of  audience  arrived,  she  dried  her  tears,  and  ap- 
peared with  a  pleasant  countenance.  Her  maxim  was,  to  let 
every  one  depart  contented ;  but  whilst  she  seemed  to  give  a 
prompt  and  decisive  answer,  men  felt  that  her  real  intention 
was  hidden  in  her  heart.  No  one  trusted  her,  and  she  trusted 
no  one.  Power,  rule,  was  the  one  object  for  which  she  lived. 
She  said  herself,  that  if  the  burden  of  government  had  not 
been  laid  upon  her  head,  she  would  still  have  dragged  it  after 
her.  She  cared  not  what  means  she  used,  so  that  she  gained 
her  end.  For  the  precepts  of  morality  she  had  no  respect, 
although  she  found  no  pleasure  in  vice  for  its  own  sake. 
Human  life  had  no  value  in  her  eyes. 

After  the  peace  of  1570,  Catherine  was  sincere  in  her 


the  Massacre  of  St,  Bartholomew,  161 

efforts  to  bring  about  a  reconciliation  ;  and  was  glad  to  see  her 
children  identify  themselves  with  the  various  parties  in  the 
state.  On  the  success  of  the  aUiances  they  formed  she  nursed 
great  projects  in  her  mind.  Her  sons  and  daughters  felt  they 
were  being  used  for  purposes  deeper  than  they  could  fathom  ; 
they  were  disunited  among  themselves,  and  did  not  love  their 
mother,  yet  were  always  ruled  by  her.  So  far  all  had  seemed 
to  go  well;  but  one  thing  troubled  her,  and  that  was  the 
growing  intimacy  and  confidence  between  Charles  and  Coligny, 
and  the  ascendency  which  the  latter  was  gaining  over  the  mind 
of  the  young  monarch.  She  complained  that  her  son  saw  the 
admiral  too  frequently,  and  herself  too  seldom.  Should  Co- 
ligny gain  the  ear  of  the  king,  he  would  become  as  intoler- 
able to  her  as  ever  Francis  Duke  of  Guise  had  been.  Coligny 
was  now  the  sole  leader  of  the  Huguenots ;  his  power  was  un- 
bounded, almost  irresponsible;  his  party  supplied  him  with 
whatever  resources  he  required ;  it  was  said  of  him,  that  he 
could  raise  a  better  army  in  four  days  than  the  king  in  four 
months.  And  this  man  had  opposed  and  thwarted  her  at 
every  turn;  once  he  was  all  but  in  her  power;  but  he  had 
proved  too  strong  for  her,  and  had  compelled  her  to  consent 
to  peace.  Had  he  not  opposed  her  regency  ?  Had  he  not 
attempted  on  more  than  one  occasion  to  get  the  whole  court 
and  her  own  person  into  his  hands  ?  She  did  not  hate  him 
merely,  she  lived  in  dread  of  him  ;  and  now  he  was  pushing 
her  from  her  seat  of  power,  and,  by  her  son's  weak  compli- 
ances, assuming  the  government  of  the  realm.  It  was  time  she 
should  be  rid  of  him. 

The  marriage  between  her  daughter  Margaret  and  Henry 
of  Navarre  had  been  proposed,  not  by  Catherine,  but  by  the 
peace-loving  Montmorency ;  so  that  even  if  Catherine  really 
had  formed  any  design  against  the  Protestant  leaders,  the  nup- 
tials were  not  contrived  with  any  view  to  its  perpetration ;  and 
many  circumstances  show  that  she  was  sincere  in  her  desire  of 
the  alliance.  Paris,  however,  was  filled  with  the  adherents  of 
both  parties ;  the  Huguenots  assembled  in  great  numbers  to 
witness  the  solemnity,  which,  in  condescension  to  their  pre- 
judices, took  place  in  a  temporary  building  adjoining  the 
cathedral.  Catherine's  fears  and  jealousies  had  grown  beyond 
endurance ;  she  resolved  to  quiet  them  for  ever.  She  took 
into  her  counsels  the  widow  of  the  Duke  of  Guise,  wlio  had 
been  assassinated,  if  not  at  the  suggestion,  yet  with  the  ap- 
proval of  Coligny.  The  two  women,  heeding  nothing  but  the 
dictates  of  their  passions,  bound  themselves  together  to  pro- 
cure his  destruction  ;  and  made  their  sons,  the  one  the  Duke 
of  Anjou,  and  the  other  the  Duke  of  Guise,  parties  to  the  de- 


16^  English  and  Foreign  Historians  : 

sign.  The  most  extravagant  plans  were  proposed.  Young 
Guise  was  of  opinion  that  his  mother  should  shoot  the  admiral 
with  lier  own  hand,  while  he  was  in  the  court-circle  among  the 
ladies;  for  in  those  times  ladies  learnt  the  use  of  fire-arms  in 
the  chase.  At  length  the  murderous  enterprise  was  intrusted 
to  a  person  upon  whom  they  could  rely,  who  concealed  him- 
self in  a  house  belonging  to  an  adherent  of  the  Guises,  and 
w^aited  till  the  admiral  rode  by.  He  was  in  his  way  from  the 
council  when  the  shot  was  fired,  and  was  indebted  for  his  life 
to  an  accidental  movement  which  he  made  at  the  instant ;  but 
the  bullet  struck  him  in  the  hand  and  arm.  Every  one  attri- 
buted the  attempt  to  the  private  vengeance  of  the  Guises,  and 
the  king  publicly  threatened  them  with  punishment. 

The  intended  victim  had  escaped  :  this  was  torment  enough 
for  Catherine;  but  this  was  not  all :  suspicion,  indeed,  had  been 
directed  to  one  who,  next  to  the  admiral,  was  the  object  of 
her  deepest  jealousy;  but  it  was  not  long  before  it  fixed  itself 
on  the  real  originator  of  the  crime.     Expressions  came  to  her 
ears  in  the  evening  at  supper ;  probably  in  her  alarm  she  ex- 
aggerated their  import;  but  they  brought  her  terrors  to  a  crisis. 
The  very  danger  she  was  in  excited  her  to  fiesh  deeds  of  blood 
and  violence.    The  Huguenots  were  in  her  hands ;  she  had  but 
to  will  it,  and  they  were  destroyed.     On  the  instant  she  sum- 
mons her  partisans  about  her,  communicates  her  fears,  rapidly 
gathers  their  opinion,  and  going  at  once  to  Charles's  cabinet, 
urges  him  to  strike   while  he  has  his  enemies  in  the  snare. 
Now  for  the  first  time  he  learns  that  his  mother  and  his  brother 
had  a  share  in  the  attack  on  the  admiral;  he  is  reminded  of 
Charry,  his  friend  and  preceptor,  treacherously  put  to  death 
by  the  latter's  command,  of  his  own  threat  of  revenge  which 
he  had  vowed  never  to  abandon,  of  the  perils  with  which  he 
was  environed ;  that  he  was  surrounded  by  traitors ;  war  was 
preparing,  a  plot  had  been  formed,  his  life  was  in  danger,  he 
must  slay  or  be  slain.     Yet  Charles  would  not  yield;  to  sacri- 
fice friends  who  had  spent  this  very  evening  with  him  jesting 
and  talking, — the  thought  was  too  horrible  !     Coligny,  La  Ro- 
chefoucauld must  be  spared.     Catherine  insisted,  plied  him 
with  scorn  and  entreaty,  threatened  to  fly  from  the  court  and 
leave  him  to  his  fate ;  at  last  she  taunted  him  with  cowardice  : 
this  Charles  could  not  brook;  he  consented;  and  with  all  the 
natural  vivacity  of  his  character,  ordered  the  immediate  execu- 
tion of  the  measure. 

Late  that  evening  Charron,  Prevot  dcs  Marchands,  and 
Marcel,  his  predecessor  in  office,  were  secretly  sununoned  to 
the  Louvre.  Marcel  was  asked,  supposing  the  king,  in  an 
emergency,  required  the  aid  of  the  populace  of  Paris,  upon 


the  Massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew,  16S 

how  many  could  he  reckon  ?  Marcel  answered,  that  that  would 
depend  on  the  time  allowed  him  for  assembling  them  ;  that  in 
a  month  he  could  have  100,000  men  ready.  But  how  many 
in  a  week  ?  He  named  a  proportionate  number.  And  this 
very  night,  how  many  ?  He  thought  20,000,  or  perhaps  more. 
These  inquiries  were  made,  not  so  much  because  any  lack  of 
agents  was  apprehended,  but  from  a  fear  of  an  armed  resist- 
ance. Charron  was  charged  to  summon  the  citizens  to  arms 
in  their  several  quarters,  and  to  close  the  gates. — Here  we 
must  stop;  yet  one  incident,  with  which  Ranke  closes  his 
narrative,  is  too  remarkable  to  be  omitted. 

For  some  time  after,  the  minds  of  men  were  filled  with 
wild  fantasies,  which  made  them  afraid  of  themselves,  and 
caused  the  very  elements  to  appear  fraught  with  terror. 
Charles  IX.,  about  eight  days  after  the  massacre,  sent  for  his 
brother-in-law  Heniy  in  the  middle  of  the  night.  The  latter 
found  him  as  he  had  sprung  out  of  bed,  horror-struck  at  a 
wild  hubbub  of  confused  voices  which  prevented  him  from 
sleeping.  Henry  himself  imagined  he  heard  the  sounds  ;  they 
appeared  like  distant  shrieks  and  3^ells  mingled  with  the  indis- 
tinguishable roar  of  a  furious  multitude,  and  with  groans  and 
curses,  as  on  the  day  of  the  massacre.  Messengers  were  sent 
into  the  city  to  ascertain  whether  any  new  tumult  had  broken 
out;  but  the  answer  returned  was,  that  all  was  quiet  in  the 
city,  and  that  the  commotion  was  in  the  air.  Henry  could 
never  recall  this  incident  without  a  horror  that  made  his  hair 
stand  on  end. 

The  remembrance  of  the  frightful  carnage  seems  to  have 
haunted  Charles  for  the  rest  of  his  days,  and  to  have  ftUed 
him  with  terror  and  remorse,  not  unmingled  with  shame. 
Ranke  thus  describes  his  character  and  his  miserable  end : 

*'  III  his  earlier  years  lie  had  excited  much  sympathy.  He  ap- 
peared to  be  a  good-tempered,  interesting,  and  generous  youth;  and 
showed  a  taste  for  poetry  and  music.  For  the  purpose  of  invi- 
gorating his  weak  frame  various  kinds  of  physical  exercise  were 
thought  necessary  ;  and  to  these  he  gave  himself  up  almost  pas- 
sionately. A  smith's  forge  was  erected  for  him  ;  and  it  gave  him 
pleasure  to  be  found  there,  bathed  in  sweat,  while  he  was  at  work 
at  a  suit  of  armour.  He  often  rose  and  took  horse  at  midnight  in 
order  to  ride  to  the  chase,  and  thought  it  the  greatest  honour  if  he 
could  excel  every  one  in  his  bodily  exercises.  The  consequence  of 
this,  however,  was,  diat  little  was  done  for  the  education  of  his  in- 
tellect, and  nothing  for  the  formation  of  his  morals.  To  reflect  on 
the  affairs  of  state,  in  which  "nothing  could  be  done  without  him,  or 
to  devote  any  diing  like  earnest  attention  to  them,  was  not  in  his 
Mature.  His  passion,  when  excited,  vented  itself  in  a  storm  of  wild 
imprecations. 


IGl  English  and  Foreign  Historians  : 

*  *'  But  the  natural  vehemence  of  disposition  which  he  cherished 
was  capable  of  receiving"  another  direction  amidst  the  passionate 
impulses  of  the  religious  and  political  parties  by  which  he  was  sur- 
rounded ;  and  thus  even  the  friends  and  companions  in  whose 
intercourse  he  had  found  pleasure  appeared  to  him  as  his  most 
dangerous  enemies.  Thus,  after  some  slight  resistance,  he  allowed 
himself,  in  an  evil  hour,  to  be  seduced  to  the  commission  of  that 
deed  which  has  consigned  his  memory  to  the  hatred  and  execration 
of  succeeding  ages.  He  himself  was  never  entirely  free  from  its 
effects;  he  felt  conscious  that  he  was  regarded  as  a  man  of  a  bad 
heart,  in  whom  slumbered  an  indomitable  savageness.  It  was  re- 
marked that  he  never  looked  any  one  straight  in  the  face ;  in  his 
audiences  he  generally  kept  his  eyes  shut,  and  when  he  opened 
them  he  directed  them  upwards,  and  immediately  afterwards  cast 
them  down  upon  the  ground.  He  now,  for  the  first  time,  com- 
municated his  intention  of  beginning  himself  to  reign,  and  to  be  king 
in  reality;  but  it  was  too  late.  The  violent  gusts  of  passion  to 
which  he  gave  way,  and  which  were  followed  by  corresponding 
depression  of  spirits  ;  the  distraction  caused  by  conspiracies  which 
were  continually  discovered  round  him  ;  the  excessive  and  con- 
tinued efforts  of  a  body  otherwise  weak  and  full  of  corrupt  humours, 
led  to  an  early  death  on  the  30th  of  May,  1574,  before  he  had  con- 
cluded his  four-and-twentieth  year.  He  had  never,  in  fact,  awoke 
from  the  intoxication  of  passion  and  excitement  to  a  full  self- con- 
sciousness, nor  ever  emancipated  himself  from  his  mother.  A  few 
hours  before  he  expired  he  appointed  her  regent  till  the  return  o: 
his  brother  from  Poland  ;  his  last  word  was,  '  My  mother  1'  " 


1 


Our  object  has  been,  not  to  describe  the  circumstances  of  the 
massacre,  but  to  show,  on  Ranke's  authority,  how  it  was  brought 
about;  and  in  doing  this  we  were  not  without  an  ulterior 
purpose.  Certain  Protestant  writers  have  declared,  or  in- 
sinuated, that  the  Pope  was  privy  to  the  plot,  and  even  ad- 
vised, or  at  least  approved  it  before  it  was  executed.  It  is 
hardly  necessarj^  to  say  that  they  do  not  adduce  a  single  fact,  J 
or  show  ground  for  one  probable  presumption,  in  support  of  so  a 
hideous  a  charge.  In  short,  it  is  just  one  of  those  numerous 
calumnies  which  Protestant  malevolence  has  invented,  and 
Protestant  prejudice  delights  to  perpetuate,  against  the  Pope 
and  the  Catholic  Church.  However,  this  at  least  is  very 
plain;  if  Protestant  writers  of  credit  and  research  are  of 
opinion  that  it  is  impossible  to  decide  on  existing  data  that 
the  massacre  itself  was  premeditated,  and  many  most  adverse 
to  the  Catholic  side  are  *' firmly  convinced"  that  it  was  not, 
it  follows,  of  course,  that  the  charge  against  the  Pope  rests,  to 
say  the  least,  on  the  same  problematical  ground  ;  and  thus 
the  whole  matter  is  removed  from  the  region  of  wild  and 
fierce  invective  into  the  peaceful  fields  of  historical  inquiry,  a 


the  Massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew,  165 

chano-e  of  position  extremely  embarrassing  and  vexatious  to 
tliose  who  have  a  zeal  in  upholding  the  established  traditions 
of  this  great  Protestant  country. 

However,  we  may  get  some  notion  of  the  value  to  be  set 
on  the  inferences  which  Protestant  writers  have  drawn,  from  a 
few  chance  words,  very  difficult  to  interpret,  which  occur  in 
the  correspondence  of  the  time, — when  every  sort  of  contra- 
dictory rumour  was  afloat,  and,  except  to  the  initiated  few,  facts 
were  as  little  or  less  known  than  they  are  at  the  present  day, — 
from  the  construction  they  have  put  on  a  single  circumstance, 
which  is  capable  not  only  of  a  distinct  solution,  but  of  one 
only  natural  and  reasonable  explanation.  Granted,  say  they, 
that  the  Pope  was  not  expressly  informed  of  the  intended 
massacre,  yet  he  approved  the  horrible  deed  of  blood  after  it 
was  perpetrated ;  nay  he  exulted  in  it,  gloried  in  it,  made  it 
the  subject  of  public  rejoicings,  and  of  impious  thanksgivings  to 
the  great  God  of  heaven  for  the  signal  mercy  which  had  been 
vouchsafed.  Listen,  for  instance,  to  no  less  a  personage  than 
the  learned  "  Professor  of  Modern  History  in  the  University 
of  Cambridge,"  speaking  ex  cathedra  wdth  all  the  solemnity 
and  responsibility  of  his  high  position  : 

*'  It  is  for  the  credit  of  us  all  not  to  exaggerate  the  darkness  of 
a  crime  which  has  left  so  foul  and  indelible  a  disgrace  upon  our 
common  nature."  [Observe  his  moderation,  and  yet  the  high  moral 
tone  of  indignation  with  which  he  writes.]  "  For,  horrible  as  was 
the  act  itself,  the  subsequent  celebration  of  it  was  even  yet  more* 
revoking.  Pope  Gregory  XHI.  and  his  cardinals  w^ent  in  proces- 
sion to  the  church  of  St.  Mark,  not  to  deprecate  in  sackcloth  and 
ashes  the  Divine  vengeance  on  a  guilty  people"  [here  we  looked  at 
the  title-page  to  convince  ourselves  that  Sir  James  w^as  not  "  Right 
Reverend"  as  well  as  *'  Right  Honourable,"  so  much  did  his  man- 
ner impress  us],  *'  but  '  to  render  solemn  thanksgiving  to  God,  the 
intinitely  great  and  good  (such  is  the  contemporary  record),  for  the 
great  mercy  which  He  had  vouchsafed  to  the  See  of  Rome  and  to 
the  whole  Christian  world.'  A  picture  of  the  massacre  was  added 
to  the  embellishments  of  the  Vatican;  and,  by  the  Pontiff's  order,  a 
golden  medal  was  struck,  to  commemorate  to  all  ages  the  triumph 
of  the  Church  over  her  enemies." 

The  explanation  is  simple  enough.  On  the  evening  of  the 
2ith,  Charles  IX.  had  it  proclaimed  through  the  metropolis, 
that  the  massacre  was  the  work  of  the  Guises;  and  that,  so  far 
from  countenancing  the  deed,  he  should  strenuously  unite 
with  the  king  of  Navarre  and  the  prince  of  Conde  in  avenging 
the  death  of  "  his  cousin  the  admiral."  The  Guises,  however, 
were  not  at  all  disposed  to  be  made  the  scapegoats  on  the 
occasion,  and  refused  to  let  the  odium  of  the  crime  be  thrown 

VOL.  I.  —  NEW  SERIES.  N 


166  English  and  Foreign  Historians  : 

on  them.  The  king  then  was  driven  to  adopt  some  other 
plan,  and  on  the  26th  he  boldly,  and  indeed  boastingly,  de- 
clared in  full  parliament  that  what  had  been  done  had  been 
done  at  his  command  ;  and  took  credit  to  himself  for  having  by 
his  prompt  and  decisive  measures  defeated  a  murderous  conspi- 
racy, which  had  for  its  object  the  massacre  of  himself  and  the 
whole  royal  family,  the  entire  revolution  of  the  kingdom,  and 
the  extermination  of  the  Catholic  faith.  The  parliament 
congratulated  their  young  monarch  on  his  happy  deliverance 
from  so  great  a  peril;  and  the  president  delivered  an  ela-- 
borate  panegyric  on  the  sagacity  and  skill  he  had  manifested 
in  so  desperate  an  emergency.  An  inquiry  was  forthwith  in- 
stituted into  the  circumstances ;  several  prosecutions  followed, 
in  which  the  accused  suffered  death  for  their  part  in  the  sup- 
posed conspiracy ;  there  was  a  solemn  procession  in  the 
streets  of  Paris,  headed  by  the  king  in  person  ;  and  medals 
were  struck  for  the  everlasting  remembrance  of  the  thing. 
These  facts,  which  we  have  taken  from  the  writer  in  the  Cabinet 
Cyclopcedia  before  alluded  to,  are  incontestable.  Whatever 
else  be  doubtful,  it  is  certain  matter  of  history  that  the  de- 
claration here  given  was  made  by  the  king  and  accepted  by 
the  parliament,  and  thus  became  the  publicly -recognised 
account  of  the  affair. 

Now  this  account  it  was  which  was  formally  embodied  ii 
the  notification  dispatched  by  the  king  to  Rome  and  all  the 
courts  of  Europe.    On  the  26th  of  September, — there  were  nc 
railways  or  steam-boats  in  those  days, — Pope  Gregory  XIII. 
whose  election  to  the  pontificate  had  just  taken  place,  was 
officially  informed  that  the  king  and  royal  family  of  France 
had  escaped  a  horrible  conspiracy,  and  that  its  authors  hac 
been    condignly  punished.     From  the  discourse  pronouncec 
on  the  occasion  by  the  envoy  extraordinary,  it  appears  that 
not  a  word  was  said  of  the  indiscriminate  slaughter  that  hai 
taken  place.     On  the  contrary,  it  was  announced  in  a  rhetc 
rical  way  that  on  that  "  memorable  night,  by  the  destruction' 
of  a  few  seditious  men,  the  king  had  been  delivered  from  im- 
mediate danger  of  death,  and  the  realm  from  the  perpetual 
terror  of  civil  war."*      This  it  was  for  which  the  court  of 
Rome  rejoiced  and  returned  God  thanks ;  not  for  a  massacre, 
but  for  the  detection  and  suppression  of  a  bloody  conspiracy : 
a  legitimate  and  righteous  cause  of  pious  congratulation  in 
the  eyes  of  every  reasonable   man,  and  worthy  certainly  of 
the  approbation  of  every  member  of  that  national  establish- 

*  "  Innoctemillam  memorabilem,  quae  paucorum  seditiosorutn  interitu,  reget 
a  preesenti  cadis  pericu/o,  regnum  a  perpetufi  civilum  bellorum  formidine  libera-* 
vit."  Murati  Oratio  xxii.  p.  177,  op.  ed.  Rulinpenii,  cited  by  Nicolas,  De  Protes-* 
tantisme  dans  son  rapport  avec  le  bocialisme;  p.  296. 


the  Massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew,  167 

raent  which  instituted  a  solemn  "form  of  thanksgiving,  to 
be  used  yearly  upon  the  5th  day  of  November,  for  the  happy 
deliverance  of  King  James  I.  and  the  three  estates  of  Eng- 
land from  the  most  traitorous  and  bloody  intended  massacre 
by  gunpowder."  But  more  than  this,  all  Catholic  Christen- 
dom might  well  rejoice  at  the  defeat  and  ruin  of  the  Huguenot 
faction,  and  tlie  solid  peace  which  it  was  hoped  would  result 
therefrom  to  France.  Who  could  be  unmindful  of  the  fright- 
ful wars  with  which  that  fair  country  had  so  long  been  de- 
vastated, the  plots,  the  surprises,  the  bloody  massacres,  and, 
above  all,  the  horrible  impieties  and  outrages  of  which  the 
Huguenots  had  been  guilty;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  the 
cruel  reprisals  and  other  scandalous  crimes,  almost  insepara- 
ble from  warfare,  whicli  the  Catholics,  infuriated  to  madness, 
had  committed;  the  injury  done  to  religion,  and  the  utter  de- 
moralisation of  the  people,  by  the  constant  scenes  of  violence 
amidst  which  they  lived,  or  in  which  they  were  forced  to  take 
a  part  ?  Well,  then,  might  the  court  of  Rome  and  the  whole 
Church  rejoice  at  the  termination  of  evils  and  disasters  such  as 
these.  And  yet  amidst  the  universal  exultation  there  was  one 
wliose  eyes  were  moist  with  tears,  and  whose  heart  refused  to 
be  comforted,  and  that  was  Gregory  himself.  "  Alas !"  he 
cried,  "  how  can  I  be  sure  that  many  innocent  souls  have  not 
suffered  with  the  guilty  ?" 

Dispassionate  and  candid  historians,*  however  strong  their 
Protestant  sympathies  may  be,  have  shrunk  from  repeating 
an  imputation  so  unjust  and  unfounded,  and  in  some  cases 
have  even  disclaimed  it  in  express  terms.  We  have,  there- 
fore, the  less  hesitation  in  saying  that,  considering  the  position 
which  Sir  James  Stephen  occupies,  and  the  character  he  af- 
fects, we  are  at  a  loss  which  most  to  admire, — the  carelessness 
of  research  which  could  leave  him  ignorant  of  the  undoubted 
facts  of  history  to  whicli  we  have  referred,  or  the  shameless 
bigotry  which  could  impel  him  wilfully  to  suppress  them, 
and  to  ground  so  monstrous  a  charge  on  what  was  susceptible 
of  a  very  simple  and  obvious  interpretation. 

Sir  James  is  a  type  of  his  class.  He  repeats  his  lesson 
like  a  dull  '*good  boy"  with  a  retentive  memory.  Wliat  he 
learnt  in  the  nursery  and  the  school-room,  he  promulgates 
now  from  his  professorial  chair.  It  is  the  old  trite  worn-out 
thing  furbished  up  afresh,  the  old  street-cry,  varied  in  form 
but  never  in  matter,  "  Barnacles,  clocks,  watches  ! — watches, 

*  Ranke  incidentally  remarks,  that  Catherine  left  Paris  with  her  son  to  avoid 
meeting  the  Papal  legate,  wlio  arrived  just  after  the  massacre  ;  a  clear  proof  that 
she  was  afraid  of  the  truth  coming  out,  or,  at  any  rate,  was  conscious  that  the 
affair  would  be  anything  but  favourably  regarded  by  that  functionary. 


168  English  and  Foreign  Historians, 

clocks,  barnacles  !"  He  never  travels  out  of  the  range  of  the 
old  family  traditions.  He  is  guided  by  prejudices,  not  by 
principles.  Of  independent  inquiry  he  has  not  a  notion. 
History  with  him  means,  not  a  narrative  of  true  facts,  but  a 
reproduction  of  the  great  national  legends. 

Ranke,  with  all  his  faults,  is  eminently  the  reverse  of  all 
this.  Of  course,  being  a  Protestant,  he  writes  like  a  Pro- 
testant;  his  hereditary  prejudices  and  individual  opinions, 
whether,  religious  or  political,  insensibly  bias  and  necessarily 
distort  the  views  he  takes,  and  affect  his  general  estimate  of  » 
persons  and  things.  In  this  sense,  therefore,  we  are  far  from  J 
recommending  him  as  a  thoroughly  trustworthy  historian. 
We  should  say,  for  instance,  that  he  shows  very  little  appre- 
ciation of  the  motives  by  which  the  Popes  were  actuated  in 
their  opposition  to  the  new  doctrines,  and  the  usurpations  of 
the  secular  power  ;  and  that  he  very  inadequately  recognises 
the  exasperating  character  of  the  enormities  committed  by  the 
Huguenots.  That  he  should  be  but  little  sensitive  to  their 
impieties,  is  perhaps  only  natural  in  one  who  has  no  belief  in 
the  holiest  mysteries  of  the  faith  ;  it  should  be  remembered, 
moreover,  in  his  excuse,  that  it  forms  no  part  of  his  object  to 
enter  into  details  of  this  kind.  Warped,  then,  indubitably 
his  ideas  and  conclusions  are  by  the  rule  by  which  he  mea- 
sures events  ;  but  events  themselves  he  (intentionally)  neitheri 
conceals  nor  tampers  with  ;  he  does  his  best  to  state  facts] 
as  they  really  happened  :  he  seizes,  and  succeeds  in  trans- 
ferring to  his  pages,  that  broad  general  colouring  which  can-J 
not  fail  to  strike  an  observant,  however  uncritical  eye ;  an( 
which  therefore,  in  the  main,  leaves  them  their  due  effect. 
We  should  say,  however,  that  events  and  persons  seem  to  pas 
before  him  like  moving  shadows  in  a  mirror,  rather  than  as 
living  and  substantial  forms,  and  that  he  simply  records  the] 
impressions  he  receives;  yet  with  all  this  he  is  possessed  of  ai 
idea*  towards  which  his  facts  converge.  The  consequence  is^ 
that  he  is  always  readable,  always  suggestive,  even  where  he 
fails  in  being  striking  or  effective.  However  much  you  diffel 
from  him  in  results,  you  have  a  confidence  in  him  as  a  faithful 
relater  of  facts;  you  feel  that  at  least  he  has  taken  pains  tc 
acquaint  himself  with  the  real  circumstances  of  the  case,  am 
has  no  private  object  in  view.  What  we  most  desiderate  ii 
him  is  elevation  of  tone  ;  he  scarcely  ever  passes  a  moral  judg- 
ment on  persons  or  actions  :  but  even  this  is  a  guarantee  oi 

*  We  are  not  writing  a  general  review  of  Mr.  Ranke's  volumes,  or  we  might 
observe  that,  though  calling  itself  a  "history,"  the  work  partakes  rather  of  th« 
character  of  an  historical  essay,  as  he  scarcely  touches  upon  any  facts  but  sue" 
as  illustrate  his  leading  idea. 


Dr*  CaliiWs  Letter  on  Transubstantiation.  169 

his  trustworthiness  as  a  narrator ;  for  he  is  seldom  betrayed 
into  a  harsh  or  a  strong  expression  towards  those  whom  he 
must  cordially  dislike,  and  whose  conduct  is  really  worthy  of 
all  reprobation.  We  have  been  particularly  struck  with  this 
in  the  w^ork  we  have  noticed,  relating  as  it  does  to  a  subject 
which,  more  than  any  other,  is  calculated  to  inflame  the 
passions  of  a  partisan,  and  to  confuse  his  natural  sense  of 
justice — the  religious  w^ars  of  the  sixteenth  century. 

Oh,  for  an  honest  narrator  of  facts,  who,  with  power  to 
command  attention,  and  from  a  position  whence  he  can  be 
heard,  would  unfold  to  the  multitude  a  plain  and  unvarnished 
tale  !  For  ourselves,  we  desire  something  more.  We  desire 
to  see  history  written  in  a  true  philosophic  spirit,  under  the 
guidance  of  Catholic  principles;  we  desire  to  see  facts  not 
only  recorded,  but  interpreted.  But  while  this  is  denied  us, — 
for  the  present  and  for  the  million,  let  us  have  the  genuine 
facts,  and  all  the  facts,  clearly  and  impartially  stated:  we 
shall  be  well  content  to  await  the  result. 


DR.  CAHILL'S  LETTER  ON  TRANSUBSTANTIATION. 

Letter  of  the  Rev,  Dr.  Cahill  to  the  Rev.  J.  Burns j  Protestant 
Minister i  Whitehaven;  December  7th,  1853.  Published 
in  the  "  Whitehaven  Herald." 

In  our  last  Number  we  offered  our  readers  some  remarks  on 
the  various  means  of  which  we  can  avail  ourselves  for  the  con- 
version of  Protestants ;  and  we  specified  certain  instruments 
of  conversion,  which,  as  it  appears  to  us,  are  applicable  to  the 
few,  but  not  to  the  many.  Dr.  Cahill's  letter  to  Mr.  Burns, 
of  Whitehaven,  supplies  an  example  of  one  particular  mode 
of  attempting  the  conversion  of* unbelievers,  which  we  did  not 
then  specify,  because  happily  it  is  rare  amongst  us ;  and  fur- 
ther, because  its  demerits  must  be  patent  to  all  but  the  most 
superficial  observers.  The  letter  before  us,  however,  presents 
so  striking  an  illustration  of  the  perils  of  platform  and  news- 
paper controversy,  that  it  is  impossible  altogether  to  pass  it 
over  without  comment.  In  thus  remarking  upon  Dr.  Cahill's 
treatment  of  the  awful  doctrine  which  is  the  subject  of  his 
epistle,  we  shall  endeavour  to  restrain  our  own  language  within 
the  closest  limits  of  moderation  of  which  the  case  will  allow, 
both  from  respect  to  Dr.  Cahill's  sacred  office,  and  from  a 
sense  of  the  deep  importance  of  the  questions  involved.  We 
must,  however,  candidly  acknowledge  that  it  is  with  feelings 


170  Dr.  CahilVs  Letter  on  Transuhstantiation, 

of  real  shame  and  distress  that  we  have  seen  the  statements 
contained  in  this  letter  sent  by  their  author  to  the  columns  of 
a  Protestant  newspaper,  with  the  professed  object  of  expound- 
ing the  consistency  and  rationality  of  the  Catholic  faith,  in 
prominent  contrast  with  the  absurdities  and  self-contradictions 
of  Protestant  heresies.  Of  the  general  tone  and  style  of  the 
letter  we  need  say  but  a  few  words.  Any  thing  more  unfor- 
tunately chosen  as  a  means  of  winning  the  ignorant  or  the  un- 
believing to  the  faith  of  the  Church,  we  can  scarcely  conceive. 
The  devout  and  charitable  Catholic,  who,  for  the  sake  of  the 
cause  defended  by  the  writer,  might  be  disposed  to  overlook 
defects  produced  by  the  zeal  of  an  advocate,  could  feel  nothing 
but  pain  and  wonder  at  Dr.  Cahill's  words  ; — what,  then,  must 
be  the  impression  produced  on  the  minds  of  those  who  will 
make  no  allowances ;  who  are  disposed  beforehand  to  account 
us  ignorant,  crafty,  and  irreverent ;  and  who,  while  blind  to  the 
follies  and  inconsistencies  of  their  own  opinions,  would  exact 
from  Catholics  an  almost  superhuman  measure  of  learning, » 
acuteness,  and  self-command  ?  We  can  only  say,  that  wea 
would  not  for  the  world  that  this  letter  should  be  seen  by  any 
Protestant  friend  or  acquaintance  who  was  in  any  degree 
awakened  to  a  sense  of  the  delusions  in  which  he  had  been 
educated,  and  was  turning  a  wistful  eye  towards  the  Catholic 
religion  as  the  one,  true,  and  holy  faith  given  by  Alniight; 
God  to  man. 

Take,  for  instance,  the  astounding  assertion,  that  he  "  would; 
prefer  that  a  Catholic  should  read  the  loorst  hooks  of  immo 
rality''  than  the  Protestant  Bible  !  If  any  of  our  readers  havej 
not  already  seen  Dr.  Cahill's  letter,  they  will  lift  up  their 
hands  in  astonishment,  and  question  the  accuracy  of  our  qu 
tation  ;  nevertheless,  we  assure  them  that  we  are  giving  the 
exact  words.  Conceive,  then,  the  effect  of  such  a  statement! 
on  the  readers  of  the  newspaper  for  which  this  letter  was  spe 
cially  written.  What  story  ctf  Catholic  wickedness  will  they 
not  henceforth  believe  ?  What  tale  of  priestly  licentiousness 
will  from  this  time  be  too  monstrous  for  their  credulity?  The 
Protestant  Bible  has  abundance  of  errors,  it  is  true,  and  some 
of  them  of  very  serious  importance;  but  is  it  not  a  violation 
of  all  common  sense  and  decency,  to  pretend  that  a  Catholic 
had  better  read  the  filthy  productions  of  obscenity  than  the 
book  in  which  these  mistranslations  occur  ?  Is  there  a  priest 
in  the  United  Kingdom  who  would  bear  out  Dr.  Cahill  in  such 
a  notion  ?  Would  not  all  with  one  accord  denounce  it  asd!| 
perfect  portent  in  the  domain  of  morals  and  casuistry  ?  Wd 
do  not  believe  that  Dr.  Cahill  himself  would  act  on  what  he 
says.    We  do  not  believe  that  he  would  see  a  Catholic  reading 


Dr.  CahilVs  Letter  on  Transubstantiation,  171 

an  obscene  publication  with  more  equanimity  than  he  would 
see  him  reading  the  Protestant  Bible.  He  is  carried  away  by 
the  excitement  of  newspaper  controversy,  and  is  betrayed  into 
exaggerations  which  in  other  moments  he  would  be  eager  to 
condemn.  This  single  passage  alone  in  his  letter  is  a  proof  of 
the  perils  with  which  newspaper  and  platform  contests  on  re- 
ligious subjects  are  surrounded.  We  do  not  say  that  such 
subjects  ought  never  to  find  their  way  into  the  columns  of  a 
Protestant  journal,  or  that  controversial  discussions  on  theolo- 
gical topics  ought  never  to  be  undertaken  in  public;  but  uni- 
versal experience  bears  us  out  in  alleging  that  such  modes  of 
treating  the  most  sacred-and  delicate  of  subjects  are  rarely 
useful ;  and  that,  when  they  are  undertaken,  they  require  a 
sound  head,  a  cool  judgment,  a  disciplined  temper,  a  prudent 
tongue,  a  contempt  for  clap-trap,  and  a  desire  to  convince  op- 
ponents ratlier  than  to  elicit  the  applause  of  indiscriminating 
admirers. 

What,  then,  must  we  think  of  the  snares  which  beset  the 
"  popular"  controversialist  when  we  turn  to  the  next  paragraphs 
of  Dr.  Cabin's  letter,  in  which  he  asserts  that  the  miracle  of 
Transubstantiation  is  "  a  very  common  occurrence  with  God, 
and  may  be  called  one  of  the  most  general  laws  of  nature?^' 
Again  we  say  that  we  acquit  him  of  intending  any  thing  ap- 
proaching to  that  which  his  words  imj^ly.  He  is  carried  away 
by  that  unfortunate  desire  to  bring  down  the  ineffable  mys- 
teries of  faith  to  the  level  of  human  capacities,  which  is  the 
bane  of  some  minds;  and  which  has  here  led  him  into  state- 
ments which,  viewed  merely  as  rhetorical  illustrations,  are  in- 
accurate and  worthless,  but  if  looked  upon  as  declarations  of 
Catholic  doctrine,  are  shocking  to  the  last  degree,  l^ed  on  by 
the  desire  of  confounding  his  adversary,  he  is  like  a  boy  play- 
ing at  snowballs,  who  mingles  dirt  and  stones  with  the  pure 
snow,  in  order  to  hit  his  antagonist  the  harder  blows.  \Vhile 
heaping  upon  the  head  of  this  Mr.  Burns  every  epithet  of 
scorn  and  contempt  for  his  stupidity,  his  ignorance,  and  his 
*•'  un theological"  blunders,  he  proceeds  to  put  forth  the  fol- 
lowing exposition  of  the  doctrine  of  Transubstantiation  : 

"  Transubstantiation,  though  a  stupendous  mysterious  fact,  and 
beyond  the  power  of  men,  is  yet,  Sir,  a  very  common  occurrence 
with  God  ;  and,  indeed,  may  be  called  one  of  the  most  general  laws 
of  nature,  and  may  be  seen  amongst  the  very  first  evidences  of  His 
omnipotent  will  towards  the  race  of  men  on  earth.  Firstly,  then, 
He  created  man  by  changing  *  the  slime  of  the  earth'  into  the  flesh 
and  bones  of  Adam,  in  His  first  official  act  of  Transubstantiation,  that 
is,  by  the  word  of  God  on  matter.  His  second  official  act  of  chang- 
ing the  bony  rib  of  Adam  into  the  flesh  and  blood  of  Eve  was  also 


17^  Dr,  Cahiirs  Letter  on  Transuhstantiation, 

Transubstantiation  by  the  word  of  God  the  Father  on  bone.  The 
first  official  act  of  Christ,  on  entering  on  the  three  years  of  His  mis- 
sion, was  performed  when  He  changed  water  into  wine  at  the  wed- 
ding of  Cana,  by  the  word  of  Christ  on  water.  The  food,  Sir  (that 
is,  the  bread  and  wine),  which  you  and  all  men  may  have  eaten  on 
this  day,  has  been  changed  into  flesh  and  blood  on  yonr  own  person, 
and  on  the  persons  of  all  men,  by  the  word  of  God  on  the  vital  action 
of  the  stomach.  The  universal  crop  of  wood,  and  grasses,  and  flowers, 
and  vegetables,  and  human  and  animal  food,  which  the  earth  annually 
produces,  is  an  annual  evidence  of  Transubstantiation  by  the  word  of 
God  the  Father  on  the  productive  energy  of  the  entire  earth.  The 
hat  on  your  head,  the  silk  in  your  cravat,  the  linen  on  your  back, 
the  cloth  of  your  wearing-apparel,  the  wool  or  cotton  in  your  stock- 
ings, the  leather  in  your  boots,  the  Whitehaven  coals  in  your  grates, 
the  gas  in  your  lamps,  the  bread,  the  butter,  the  cream,  the  sugar, 
the  tea-leaf  on  your  breakfast-table,  the  mutton,  the  beef,  the  bacon, 
the  fowl,  the  wine,  the  brandy,  the  ale  on  your  dinner-table, — in  short, 
almost  every  object  the  eye  beholds  on  earth,  is  one  vast  aggregate 
of  evidence  of  Transubstantiation  by  the  word  of  God  on  matter. 
Even  the  paper  of  your  spurious  Bible,  the  leather  on  the  back,  the 
Indian-ink,  are  such  evidences  of  Transubstantiation,  that  one  can 
scarcely  conceive  how  you  could  read  that  very  Bible  without  being 
burned  with  scalding  shame  at  the  stark-naked  nonsense  and  in- 
congruous maniasm  you  have  written  to  me  on  the  subject.  God 
has  supplied  us,  during  four  thousand  years,  with  this  mighty,  uni- 
versal, constant  evidence,  in  order  to  prepare  us  for  the  more  mighty, 
infinitely  more  stupendous  evidence  of  the  same  principle  in  the  new 
law,  by  the  power  and  the  word  of  Christ." 

Whether  the  perusal  of  this  exposition  of  an  unfathom* 
able  mystery  will  make  the  Protestant  Mr.  Burns  hum  tvith 
scalding  shame  at  the  stark-naked  7ionsense  and  incongruous 
maniasm  which  he  has  written  to  Dr.  Cahill,  we  do  not  pre- 
tend to  decide.  But  of  tlijs  we  are  sure,  that  little  as  he  may 
have  hitherto  known  of  the  doctrine  of  Transubstantiation,  he 
will  now  be  more  utterly  confounded  than  ever  in  his  specu- 
lations concerning  it.  For  ourselves,  we  would  ask  Dr.  Cahill 
whether  he  really  means  to  insinuate  that  the  change  produced 
by- the  consecration  of  the  sacramental  elements  is  of  the  same 
nature  as  the  chemical  changes  to  which  he  has  likened  it ;  a 
mere  natural  growth  from  one  form  to  another,  an  aggregation 
of  additional  particles  of  matter  to  an  original  substratum  ? 
He  cannot  mean  it.  We  will  not  wrong  him  for  a  moment 
by  the  supposition.  Why,  then,  does  he  employ  this  series  of 
most  profane  and  irreverent  illustrations?  Nay,  why  does  he 
actually  reiterate  the  very  term  "  Transubstantiation"  itself  to 
describe  the  process  of  digestion,  the  growth  of  plants,  and 
the  works  of  the  factory,  the  kitchen,  and  the  brew-house  ^ 


Dr.  Cahill's  Letter  on  Transuhstantiation,  173 

Is  this  a  fit  subject  for  rhetorical  exaggeration  and  prepos- 
terous metaphor  ?  Is  this  transcendent  mystery  of  divine 
love  to  be  presented  to  unbelieving  eyes  under  the  guise  of 
illustrations  which,  if  they  have  any  meaning  at  all,  are  equi- 
valent to  an  assertion  that  no  real  transuhstantiation  takes 
place  in  the  consecrated  elements  ?  The  very  word  itself  was 
created  by  Catholic  theology,  to  express  the  annihilation  of 
one  substance  and  the  substitution  of  another,  the  original 
"accidents"  (the  only  portions  of  matter  which,  as  far  as  we 
know,  are  cognisable  by  the  senses)  remaining  unaltered. 
But,  not  to  dwell  on  the  first  illustrations  in  the  foregoing 
extract,  bad  as  they  are,  what  is  the  "  change"  that  takes 
place  in  the  digestion  of  food,  in  the  growth  of  plants,  and  in 
the  processes  of  human  manufacture?  In  these  there  is  no 
annihilation  of  one  substance  and  substitution  of  another. 
Nothing  is  destroyed ;  modifications  are  made  in  the  chemical 
relationship  of  the  various  substances  of  which  the  human 
body,  our  food,  and  the  whole  earth,  are  composed.  To  call 
these  changes  transuhstantiation  is  false,  dangerous,  and  to 
our  minds  nothing  less  than  profane. 

Setting  aside,  moreover,  the  theological  bearings  of  Dr. 
Cabin's  language,  as  an  argumentative  illustration  of  the  mys- 
tery of  the  Real  Presence  it  is  worthless,  and  can  serve  only  to 
mislead.  The  wonder  of  Transuhstantiation  is  this,  that  while 
the  substance  is  changed,  the  visible  and  tangible  accidents  re- 
main. How,  then,  does  it  assist  faith,  to  compare  this  super- 
natural condition  of  a  visible  object  with  natural  changes,  in 
which  the  substance  remains  and  the  accidents  are  changed  ? 
The  difficulty  to  human  reason  in  the  Catholic  doctrine  is 
the  non- alteration  in  the  accidents.  In  all  chemical  changes 
the  accidents  are  more  or  less  altered,  and  heretical  unbelief 
asserts  that  no  transuhstantiation  can  take  place  without  such 
alteration ;  and  Dr.  Cahill's  illustrations  will  serve  to  confirm 
such  unbelief.  Protestants  will  reiterate  their  assertion  that 
the  whole  doctrine  is  unmitigated  nonsense,  andi^hat  Catho- 
lics themselves  do  not  know  what  they  mean.  Catholics,  on 
the  other  hand,  will  reply  to  such  illustrations,  that  they  are 
in  direct  violation  of  the  injunctions  and  declarations  of  the 
Catechism  of  the  Council  of  Trent,  in  which  we  are  taught 
that  it'e  have  no  example  of  the  change  wrought  hy  Transuh- 
stantiation, either  in  natural  changes  or  in  the  creation  of  things, 
^^ Illud  soBpissime  a  Sanctis  Patribus  repetitum  Jideles  admo- 
nendi  sunt,  ne  curiosius  inquirant,  quo  pacto  ea  mutatio  Jieri 
possit.  Nee  enim  percipi  a  nobis  potest,  nee  in  naturalihtis 
rnutationibns,  aut  in  ipsa  rerum  creatione  ejus  rei  exemplum 
aliquod  habemus''     (Cat.  Cone.  Trid.  pars  2,  c.  iv.  9,  41.) 


174  Dr,  CahilVs  Letter  on  Transuhstaiitiation. 

Dr.  Cdhill,  however,  is  not  content  to  stop  here.  He 
actually  goes  on  to  "  illustrate"  this  sacred  mystery  by  a  new 
**  explanation"  of  the  Incarnation  itself,  which  is  a  virtual 
denial  of  the  very  foundation  of  the  Christian  faith. 

"  But  you  will  say  that  such  a  fact  has  never  occurred  in 
the  new  law.  This  is  a  mistake  :  it  happened  in  the  Incarna- 
tion. When  the  archangel  (a  creature)  announced  to  Mary 
the  will  of  God,  who  sent  him  to  wait  on  her,  and  to  tell  her 
that  she  would  bring  forth  a  son,  she  replied,  '  How  can  it  be, 
as  I  know  not  man  V  He  resumed,  *  It  will  be  done  by  the 
power  and  operation  of  the  Holy  Ghost.'  Here,  Sir,  is  a 
position  which  might  he  argued  as  a  clear  case  of  transubstan- 
tiation  in  the  very  first  act  of  the  new  law  ;  namely,  the  blood 
of  Mary,  the  relative  of  Adam  the  criminal,  changed  into  a 
human  body  for  the  second  person  of  the  Trinity  by  the  power 
of  the  Holy  Ghost.  Thui^,  Sir,  if  the  redemption  and  the 
perfection  of  fallen  man  commenced  by  an  act  of  transubstan- 
tiation  in  the  Incarnation,  why  not  continue  the  same  prin- 
ciple amongst  ail  future  men  by  the  power  and  operation  of 
the  same  Holy  Ghost?" 

Does  Dr.  Cahill  mean  to  allege  that  the  human  nature  as- 
sumed by  the  eternal  Son  was  not  taken  from  the  flesh  and 
blood  of  Mary,  in  the  same  way  as  every  one  of  us  derives  his 
humanit^^  from  his  own  mother  ?  Does  he  mean  that  the] 
*'  blood  of  Mary"  was  annihilated,  as  the  substance  of  the! 
bread  and  wine  is  annihilated  by  the  words  of  the  conse-j 
oration,  and  that  then,  by  a  fresu  and  isolated  act  of  divine] 
omnipotence,  a  human  body  was  created  for  the  Incarnation 
of  the  eternal  Son  ?  If  he  does  mean  this,  this  is  equivalent 
to  the  old  heresy  of  the  Gnostics,  Manichees,  Apollmarians,! 
and  Eutyciiians,  who,  while  they  admitted  that  our  blessed] 
Lord  was  born  of  Mary,  denied  that  He  took  flesh  of  her. 
But  if  he  does  not  mean  this,  what  do  these  rash  and  random; 
words  mean  ?  Is  it  not  mourn i'ul  to  reflect  that  in  these  days,1 
when  eveiKj^ne's  eyes  are  turned  towards  the  Church  and  her 
teaching,  the  columns  of  a  Protestant  newspaper  should  be 
filled  with  declamations  on  the  very  foundation  of  our  faith, 
which,  if  they  have  any  meaning  at  all,  are  a  plain  denial  of 
the  doctrine  which  every  child  may  read  in  the  Creed  of  St. 
Athanasius,  that  "our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  is  man  of  the  substance 
of  His  mother  r' 

The  truth  is,  that  Dr.  Cahill  is  not  aware  that  in  flinging 
his  metaphors  in  his  adversary's  face,  he  is  playing  with  edged, 
tools.  A  metaphor  is  a  most  dangerous  instrument  in  sacredl 
subjects,  if  not  used  with  rare  caution  and  perfect  accuracy] 
of  idea.    Many  and  many  are  the  false  and  pernicious  impr( 


Dr.  CaJiUVs  Letter  on  Transuhstantiation,  175 

sions  which  have  been  conveyed  by  the  medium  of  "  illustra- 
tions" and  *'  imagery,"  which,  not  being  strictly  applicable  to 
the  subject  in  hand,  have  served  only  to  fill  the  mind  with  false 
conceptions,  making  the  entrance  of  the  real  truth  more  diffi- 
cult than  ever.  Powerful  and  beneficial  as  is  the  effect  of 
metaphors  in  theological  writing  when  they  are  critically 
correct  and  applicable,  we  apprehend  that  there  are  few  more 
perilous  instruments  of  delusion  when  employed  by  rash  or 
superficial  minds.  Harmless  as  they  may  be  when  employed 
uncritically  on  trifling  subjects,  and  delightful  as  is  the  charm 
they  convey  when  springing  from  the  fount  of  a  deep,  clear, 
and  vigorous  imagination,  we  cannot  but  think  that  the  greatest 
caution  is  needful  in  their  use  when  employed  to  illustrate 
those  ineflfable  mysteries,  which  it  is  so  easy  for  the  human 
intellect  to  darken  in  its  attempts  to  make  clear. 

Of  the  letter  of  Mr.  Burns,  which  has  called  forth  this 
reply  from  Dr.  Cahill,  we  know  nothing  more  than  is  to  be 
gathered  from  the  extracts  which  the  latter  has  prefixed  to 
his  rejoinder.  Mr.  Burns  appears  to  be  a  person  of  the  "  evan- 
gelical" school,  who  cannot  help  "  preaching"  even  when 
writing  to  a  Catholic  priest.  We  dare  say  his  whole  produc- 
tion is  foolish  ewough,  and  as  '*  untheological"  as  Dr.  Cahill 
considers  it  to  be.  But  we  must  say  that,  as  far  as  Dr.  Cahill 
has  enabled  us  to  judge,  there  appears  to  be  nothing  in  it 
which  should  have  provoked  such  contumely  and  violence  as 
he  has  poured  forth.  On  the  contrary,  there  are  indications  of 
more  modesty  of  thought  than  is  common  among  persons  of 
Mr.  Burns's  school ;  and  which  should  naturally  have  called 
for  a  simple  and  kind-hearted  explanation  of  Catholic  doctrine, 
rather  than  for  a  storm  of  contempt.  "  /  think,'"  says  Mr. 
Burns,  "  the  soul  can  no  more  feed  on  flesh  and  blood  than 
on  bread."  Surely  such  a  statement,  so  expressed,  required 
something  different  from  a  whole  broadside  of  abuse.  Here 
is  no  evidence  of  a  mind  setting  itself  up  against  God,  and 
unwilling  to  believe  that  all  things  are  possible 'with  Omni- 
potence. Mr.  Burns  evidently  imagines  that  the  Catholic 
faith  teaches  that  we  feed  upon  the  Body  and  Blood  of  our 
blessed  Lord  precisely  in  the  same  way  as  we  eat  natural  food, 
namely,  by  breaking  it  into  pieces  in  the  mouth,  and  absorb- 
ing it  by  the  process  of  digestion  into  the  various  parts  of  our 
bodies.  This,  indeed,  is  the  common  notion  of  Protestants. 
To  such  a  difficulty,  what  answer  so  appropriate  as  a  few  brief 
words  from  that  almost  inspired  song  in  which  the  Church 
utters  her  faith  before  the  altar  of  her  Lord  : 

"  A  sumente  non  concisus, 
Non  confractus,  non  divisus, 


176  jDr.  CaliilVs  Letter  on  Transuhstantiatioiu 

Integer  accipitur. 
Nulla  rei  fit  scissura, 
Signi  tantum  fit  fractura. 
Qua  nee  status  nee  statura 
Signati  minuitur." 

"What  a  contrast,  indeed,  is  this  divine  hymn  to  the  fiery 
declamation  of  modern  controversy  !  Its  cadences  fall  upon  the 
ear  like  a  sweet  strain  of  music  after  the  din  of  battle.  Here 
is  the  true  controversy  for  every  age.  Here  is  that  which 
will  win  every  heart  not  wilfully  closed  to  the  accents  of  di- 
vine love.  Here  is  mystery  unveiled,  so  far  as  mortal  intelli- 
gence can  unveil  it,  when  guided  by  the  wisdom  of  grace,  and 
chastened  by  the  restraints  of  loving  humility.  To  such 
sources  as  this  we  counsel  Mr.  Burns  to  address  himself  for 
the  future,  when  he  would  know  what  doctrine  the  Catholic 
Church  has  really  received  from  her  adorable  Master,  and 
which  she  has  preserved  unsullied  from  the  hour  when  she 
first  received  it  from  His  lips. 

Since  the  above  remarks  were  in  type,  we  have  seen  fur- 
ther illustrations  of  the  extravagances  into  which  Dr.  Cahill 
is  frequently  betrayed, — extravagances  which  have  long  created 
not  a  little  uneasiness  in  the  minds  of  persons  who  are  sup- 
posed by  Protestants  to  approve  of,  or  to  be  justly  responsible 
for,  his  proceedings.  We  are  induced,  therefore,  to  add  a 
few  words  to  what  we  have  already  written,  in  order  to  assure 
our  non-Catholic  readers  that  Dr.  Cahill  alone  is  responsible 
for  the  statements  he  puts  forth,  and  that  there  is  no  founda- 
tion whatever  for  the  prevalent  Protestant  notion  that  he  is 
to  be  taken  as  a  chosen  champion  of  the  faith;  but,  on  the 
contrary,  that  a  very  large  proportion  of  the  Catholic  clergy 
and  laity  regard  much  of  what  he  says  as  pernicious  or  untrue. 

Why,  then,  it  will  be  said,  is  Dr.  Cahill  alloiced  thus  to 
ompromise  the  whole  community  of  which  he  is  a  member? 
hy  do  the  bishops  and  clergy  permit  him  to  write  and 
lecture  as  he  does  ?  Why  do  not  those  who  disapprove  come 
forward  and  protest  against  his  being  accepted  as  the  model 
of  a  Catholic  controversialist?  We  reply,  that  the  common 
idea  that  Catholics  are  like  a  regiment  of  soldiers  on  the  field 
of  battle,  or  a  gang  of  slaves  under  an  overseer,  and  therefore 
every  one  of  them  always  acting  in  obedience  to  orders,  is  a 
pure  figment  of  the  Protestant  imagination.  Knowing  that 
we  have  a  discipline  and  code  of  law,  that  we  do  regard  our 
bishops  as  the  successors  of  the  apostles,  and  that  we  profess 
the  utmost  unity  in  matters  of  faith,  the  world  about  us  jumps 
to  the  conclusion,  that  every  bishop  is  invested  with  powers 


f 


Dr,  CaliilVs  Letter  on  Transuhstantiatmi,  177 

equivalent  to  the  very  highest  which  ultramontane  theology 
ever  attributed  to  the  Pope  himself.  There  is  a  sort  of  idea 
more  or  less  universally  prevalent  in  England,  that  we  are  a  kind 
of  secret  society,  bound  together  by  unknown  oaths  and  myste- 
rious bonds  ;  every  man  with  his  precise  duty  assigned  to  him 
in  the  warfare  with  Protestants,  and  every  man  ready  to  do 
that  duty  with  the  most  eager  and  exact  obedience  when  the 
word  is  given ;  the  entire  band  commanded  by  Cardinal  Wise- 
man, who,  from  his  residence  in  Golden  Square,  or  from  any 
other  spot  in  France,  Germany,  or  Italy,  where  he  may  happen 
to  be  travelling,  pulls  the  string  and  sets  his  puppets  in  mo- 
tion. Any  thing,  however,  more  utterly  unlike  the  fact  was 
never  swallowed  by  the  gohemouches  who  live  on  *'  tales  of 
mystery  and  wonder."  A  Catholic  bishop  is  not  a  Russian 
autocrat,  with  uncontrolled  power  over  the  actions  and  pro- 
perty of  his  spiritual  subjects.  He  administers  and  enforces 
the  laws  of  the  Church  ;  and  beyond  these  whatever  power  he 
has  is  a  species  of  moral  influence,  arising  from  the  weight 
justly  due  to  his  sacred  office  and  character.  Undoubtedly 
this  influence  is  sometimes  very  great,  far  greater  indeed  than 
any  simMar  influence  which  persons  in  authority  outside  the 
Church  can  ever  exercise.  But  at  the  same  time,  the  fact 
that  it  is  a  moral  influence,  and  not  a  legal  right — (by  the 
word  legal,  meaning  a  right  secured  by  the  laws  of  the  Catholic 
Church) — makes  it  necessary  that  it  should  be  employed  with 
great  care  and  prudence,  and  not  pushed  too  far,  lest  an  un- 
willing subject  recalcitrate  hopelessly.  Accordingly,  as  a  mat- 
ter of  history,  we  find  that  Catholic  prelates,— imitating  the 
wisdom  of  the  Holy  See,  which  rarely  exercises  its  utmost 
rights,  r'ifjlits  though  they  be, — are  often  backward  in  inter- 
fering in  cases  where  Protestants  expect  their  instant  inter- 
ference with  the  strong  arm  of  authority  ;  and  if  the  future  is 
to  be  like  the  past,  this  rule  will  continue  to  be  observed  till 
the  end  of  all  things. 

We  repeat,  then,  that  the  mere  fact  that  Dr.  Cahill  is  a 
popular  speaker  and  writer  with  a  certain  class  of  admirers,  is 
no  sort  of  proof  that  he  is  accepted  as  a  champion  by  any  but 
those  who  cheer  him  with  their  excited  applause  ;  and  who,  of 
course,  have  as  much  right  to  approve  of  his  style  as  we  have 
to  disapprove  of  it. 


178 


NAPOLEON  AND  SIR  HUDSON  LOWE. 

History  of  the  Captivity  of  Napoleon  at  St.  Helena ;  from 
the  Letters  and  Journals  of  the  late  Lieut, -Gen.  Sir  Hud- 
son  Lowe,  and  Official  Documents  not  before  made  public. 
B}^  William  Forsyth,  M.A.,  Author  of  "  Hortensius," 
and  "  History  of  Trial  by  Jury.'*  In  3  vols.  J  iOndon : 
Murray. 

Every  body  knows  that  "  brevity  is  the  soul  of  wit,"  but 
not  every  body  knows  that  brevity  is  the  soul  of  a  great  many 
things  besides.  The  author  of  the  three  solid  volumes  be- 
fore us  has  written  a  book  on  the  duties  of  lawyers ;  but  we 
fear,  if  we  may  judge  of  his  precepts  by  his  practice,  that  he 
has  not  included  brevity  among  the  forensic  virtues.  We 
should  like  to  know  how  many  clients'  causes  have  been  ruined 
by  the  long-windedness  of  their  advocates.  It  was  never  our 
fate  to  be  impanelled  on  a  jury,  but  we  can  well  conceive  the 
involuntary  ill-will  which  must  be  awakened  in  that  "  bul- 
wark of  British  liberty"  by  a  tedious  oration  from  a  pleader 
who  knows  not  when  to  stop.  In  arguing  on  any  cause,  it  is 
a  rule  of  the  first  importance,  to  avoid  boring  your  hearers  with 
too  much  even  of  the  eloquence  of  Demosthenes. 

It  has  been  the  hard  fate  of  Sir  Hudson  Lowe  (or  rathe 
of  his  memory)  to  have  his  cause  intrusted  to  a  gentleman 
who  has  estimated  the  digestive  faculties  of  the  public  (lite 
rarily  speaking)  by  those  of  a  tough-nerved,  hard-headedj 
Temple  lawyer,  who  would  plunge  into  a  huge  box  of  parch- 
ments with  the  same  zest  with  which  most  people  approach 
a  new  novel  by  a  popular  author.  In  his  own  lifetime,  Sir 
Hudson  never  would  say  any  thing  in  his  own  defence,  at  least 
to  the  world.  A  perverse  fate  now  dooms  his  memory  to  the 
poor  chances  of  exculpation  attainable  through  the  medium 
of  three  bulky  octavos,  each  numbering  about  five  hundred 
pages,  including  not  far  from  two  hundred  closely-printed 
documents  by  way  o^  pieces  justific  at  Ives.  As  it  is,  however, 
the  shade  of  the  taciturn  Governor  of  St.  Helena  has  had  a 
narrow  escape  from  something  worse.  It  was  at  first  arranged 
that  Sir  Harris  Nicholas  was  to  have  been  the  editor  of  the 
Lowe  papers,  and  the  vindicator  of  the  memory  of  the  aspersed 
"  gaoler"  of  Napoleon  ;  and  Sir  Harris  intended  to  vindicate 
his  memory  in  eight  or  nine  bulky  volumes  !  At  last  Napoleon 
would  have  had  liis  revenge  indeed ! 

We  are  sorry,  in  true  earnest,  that  Mr.  Forsyth  has  writ- 
ten so  big  a  book.     His  cause  is  a  good  one,  for  it  is  not  only 


s 

\ 


Napoleon  and  Sir  Hudson  Lowe.  179 

interesting,  but  just.  We  care  little  enough  for  the  reputation 
of  George  IV.  and  the  ministry  who  sent  the  captive  emperor 
to  his  island  prison  ;  and  as  little  do  we  care  for  the  fame  of 
one  who  to  such  astonishing  abilities  united  such  extreme 
littleness  of  mind  as  the  first  Napoleon.  Still,  historical  truth 
is  always  welcome ;  and  a  man  who  was  the  victim  of  the 
contemptible  Holland-House  coterie,  and  the  object  of  the 
slanders  of  such  a  scoundrel  as  O'Meara,  and  such  mendacious 
scribblers  as  Las  Cases,  has  a  right  to  be  fairly  heard  in  his 
own  defence.  We  pity  Sir  Hudson,  therefore,  because  his 
vindication  has  at  length  appeared  in  such  an  interminably 
lengthy  shape  that  few  will  buy  it,  and  of  those  who  buy 
still  fewer  will  read  it.  Nor  do  we  see  that,  *as  an  argument 
based  on  satisfactory  and  ample  proofs,  the  work  would  have 
been  in  the  least  less  complete  if  it  had  been  compressed  into 
a  book  one-third  of  its  present  size.  It  abounds  with  needless 
repetitions,  and  refutations  of  statements  in  minute  detail, 
which  were  susceptible  of  perfect  disproof  in  far  more  general 
terms.  The  whole,  too,  is  not  much  better  than  a  mere 
piecing  together  of  letters,  notes,  memorandums,  extracts, 
and  despatches.  To  call  the  result  a  "history,"  as  Mr.  For- 
syth does  in  his  title,  is  a  misconception ;  it  is  a  mere  lawyer's 
putting-in  of  documents  before  "  the  court,"  with  just  so 
many  remarks  as  are  needful  for  an  estimate  of  their  authen- 
ticity and  weight. 

The  actual  story  is  soon  told ;  and  the  illustrations  of  the 
spirit  which  animated  Sir  Hudson,  his  captive,  and  his  com- 
panions, are  for  the  most  part  repetitions  of  the  same  thing  over 
and  over  again.  From  the  first,  Napoleon  and  Sir  Hudson  fell 
out.  It  was  the  fault  of  the  former,  and  the  misfortune  of  the 
latter.  Sir  Hudson  was  not  to  blame  ;  but  he  was  not  the  man 
to  conciliate  such  an  irritable  temper  as  that  of  the  fallen  em- 
peror. He  was  a  man  of  a  strong  courageous  mind,  of  un- 
bending will,  with  a  deep  sense  of  responsibility  ;  and  we  have 
no  doubt,  a  gentleman  in  feeling  and  conduct.  Few  will  rise 
from  these  volumes  and  believe  that  he  ever  treated  his  captive 
with  any  thing,  strictly  speaking,  like  harshness.  But  his 
manner  was  clearly  unfortunate.  Mr.  Forsyth  says  he  had 
no  manner;  and  such  a  man  was  the  very  last  to  soothe  a 
disposition  always  vehement,  overwhelming,  and  irritable,  and 
now  worked  up  to  the  highest  sensitiveness  by  its  tremendous 
fall.  Napoleon  was  essentially  a  person  of  a  little  mind;  he 
could  not  bear  adversity  with  dignity,  but  clung  to  the  title  and 
observances  which  he  had  lost  with  the  childishness  of  a  silly 
boy,  and  the  tenacity  of  the  most  obstinate  of  men.  He  in- 
sisted upon  being  called  *' Emperor;"  the  British  government 


180  Napoleon  and  Sir  Hudson  Lowe, 

absurdly  chose  to  call  him  "  General  Bonaparte ;"  to  which 
he  replied,  that  if  he  was  never  an  emperor,  he  never  was  a 
general.  On  this  ridiculous  point  the  captive  and  the  governor 
instantly  quarrelled,  and  they  continued  the  game  to  the  end. 
No  doubt  Sir  Hudson  was  justified  by  the  letter  of  his  in- 
structions from  the  British  government  to  practise  this  irritat- 
ing course  ;  but  a  iviser  man  would  have  found  a  hundred 
ways  for  fulfilling  his  duty  with  less  galling  coolness  and 
disregard  of  his  captive's  weakness. 

In  the  last  of  their  few  interviews  Napoleon  insulted  Sir 
Hudson  deliberately,  and  he  early  took  a  strong  and  uncon- 
querable dislike  to  his  face.  He  confessed  afterwards  that 
Sir  Hudson's  iftiperturbable  coolness  and  rigid  propriety  of 
demeanour  had  particularly  irritated  and  vexed  him;  and  it 
is  evident  that  a  man  of  different  manners  would  have  soothed 
the  wounded  pride  and  silly  sensitiveness  of  the  ex-emperor, 
without  yielding  strictly  one  iota  to  his  assumptions.  Nor 
can  we  at  all  enter  into  Sir  Hudson's  idea,  that  the  notes  of 
Napoleon's  followers  were  to  be  incessantly  returned  to  them, 
because  they  persisted  in  giving  their  chief  the  obnoxious 
title.  Had  Bonaparte  been  free,  there  would  have  been  some 
sense  in  thus  refusing  every  shadow  of  acknowledgment  of  the 
title  he  still  claimed ;  but  when  he  was  a  captive,  to  insisA 
upon  his  own  followers  giving  it  up  was  as  childish  awtm 
ridiculous  as  it  was  totally  needless  as  a  measure  of  state 
policy.  H 

No  little  of  the  endless  misunderstandings  that  took  placdH 
and  also  of  Napoleon's  sore  and  violent  feelings  towards  Sir 
Hudson,  must  be  set  down  to  the  character  of  the  French  wlio 
had  accompanied  the  fallen  conqueror  to  his  exile.  A  mo: 
unfortunate  selection  could  not  have  been  made.  Unprinc 
pled,  lying,  and  professedly  scoffing  at  religion, — -to  saynothii 
of  their  immense  intellectual  inferiority  to  Napoleon, — th 
spent  their  days  in  flattering  his  foibles,  and  adding  to  h 
irritation  against  Sir  Hudson.  General  Gourgaud  formed  th 
one  exception  ;  and  after  a  while  he  found  his  position  intoler- 
able, and  returned  to  Europe.  As  to  the  rest.  Las  Cases, 
Montholon,  Bertrand,  and  O'Meara,  these  volumes  convict 
them  of  every  thing  that  is  false,  mean,  hypocritical,  and  un- 
principled. Their  condemnation  is  to  be  found  in  their  own 
writings.  The  worst  of  them  all  was  O'Meara,  the  English 
surgeon  of  the  Bellerophon,  whom  Napoleon  had  asked  to 
have  for  his  medical  attendant.  He  at  length  was  dismissed 
in  disgrace ;  and  as  soon  as  he  was  gone,  matters  a  ] 
mended. 

Almost  as  unhappy  an  issue  attended  the  choice  of 


Napoleon  and  Sir  Hudson  Lowe.  181 

two  priests  and  the  Italian  physician  afterwards  sent  out  to 
Napoleon  on  his  own  request.  The  priests  were  harmless, 
but  utterly  unfit  for  dealing  with  a  daring  and  able  unbeliever 
like  the  ex-emperor.  He  really,  it  seems,  wanted  a  man  who 
could  meet  him  at  every  point  in  theological  controversy. 
These  two,  Buonavita  and  Vignali,  he  despised.  The  doctor, 
Antommarchi,  fell  in  with  the  Bertrand  and  Montholon  ways, 
and,  like  O'Meara,  totally  mistook  his  patient's  complaint. 

The  state  of  things  resulting  from  these  peculiarities  of 
cliaracter  in  the  captive,  his  followers,  and  his  *'  gaoler,"  as  he 
used  to  call  Sir  Hudson  Lowe,  was  petty,  disgraceful,  and  un- 
fortunate in  the  extreme.  Sir  Hudson  had  his  faults,  it  is 
clear;  but  we  pity  him  with  all  our  heart  in  having  to  deal 
with  such  a  crew.  Did  we  not  know  how^  perfectly  com- 
patible is  a  meanness  of  spirit  with  a  gigantic  strength  of  mere 
intellect,  we  should  have  thought  it  incredible  that  a  man  who 
could  win  Austerhtz  and  Jena,  and  put  forth  the  "  Code 
Napoleon,"  could  have  descended  to  such  utter  littlenesses  as 
Napoleon  not  only  gave  way  to,  but  deliberately  adopted  and 
obstinately  carried  out  in  his  warfare  with  the  soldier  who 
had  the  ill-luck  to  be  commissioned  to  keep  him  from  escap- 
ing from  his  captivity.  We  do  not  think  we  ever  met  with 
so  striking  a  proof  of  the  utter  moral  smallness  of  humanity, 
when  selfishness  is  its  governing  principle.  One  day  it  is  an 
untrue  complaint  of  bad  meat ;  another  it  is  a  pretence  that 
his  wardrobe  is  ill  supplied  ;  another  it  is  a  device  to  force 
some  excessive  harshness  from  the  governor,  as  a  pretext  for 
appealing  to  Europe.  One  notable  device  of  Napoleon's  was 
a  sale  of  much  of  his  plate,  under  a  pretence  that  Sir  Hudson 
did  not  give  him  enough  to  eat.  Then,  for  months  together, 
the  ex-empcror  literally  will  not  stir  out  of  doors,  in  order  to 
make  it  impossible  for  the  orderly-officer  on  duty  to  report  to 
the  governor  once  a  day  that  he  had  had  a  sight  of  the  captive. 
The  British  Government  were  terribly  afraid  that  Napoleon 
would  by  some  means  get  away,  and  accordingly  one  of  Sir 
Hudson's  duties  was  to  take  care  tliat  he  was  seen  every  four- 
and-twenty  hours.  Against  this  the  senseless  passion  of  Na- 
poleon rebelled.  Of  course  it  was  not  pleasant  to  know  that 
once  a  day  he  was  to  be  made  the  object  of  surveillance.  But 
any  person  with  the  least  pretence  to  greatness  of  mind  would 
have  submitted  to  the  inevitable  necessity  with  a  good  grace  ; 
and  no  man  with  the  feelings  of  a  gentleman  would  have  put 
the  officer,  to  whom  the  unpleasant  duty  was  committed,  to 
the  extreme  annoyance  which  Napoleon  inflicted  upon  the 
unlucky  gentlemen  who  were  commissioned  to  look  at  him. 
The  devices  that  this  pertinacity  made  necessary  would  have 

VOL.  I. NEW  SERIES.  O 


18^  Napoleon  and  Sir  Hudson  Lowe, 

been  ludicrous,  were  it  not  for  the  childish  folly  which  necessiw 
tated  them.  At  one  time  the  orderly  sees  Napoleon  through 
a  telescope ;  at  another  he  has  to  peep  through  the  window- 
curtain  of  his  bed-room  ;  often  and  often  he  is  worn  to  death 
with  incessant  walking,  in  the  vain  hope  of  catching  a  sight 
of  the  sulky  conqueror,  who  knew  and  enjoyed  the  petty  an- 
noyances he  was  inflicting,  not  on  his  "  gaoler,"  but  on  a  man 
who  was  simply  obeying  orders.  Then  Napoleon  won't  take 
the  physic  the  doctor  orders  him ;  and  we  don't  know  how 
many  hours  the  said  doctor  spends  in  trying  to  get  him  to 
swallow  a  dose  of  castor-oil.  Such  a  story,  in  short,  was 
never  told  before. 

The  fatal  illness  which  soon  carried  off"  the  captive,  it  can- 
not be  doubted,  was  to  a  very  great  extent  hastened  by  thii 
suicidal  obstinacy,  in  victimising  himself  in  order  to  frustrate 
the  execution  of  the  governor's  orders.  When  a  man,  with 
an  hereditary  tendency  to  stomach-disease,  chooses. never  to 
ride  because  he  can't  ride  wherever  he  chooses,  remains 
in-doors  for  several  months  together  to  prevent  an  unlucky 
officer  from  catching  a  siglit  of  his  face,  and  indulges  in  hot- 
baths  three  or  four  times  a  day,  who  can  wonder  that  a  few 
years  ended  Napoleon's  captivity  by  death  ?  He  would  have 
died  any  where  under  such  a  self-imposed  regimen. 

The  silliness  of  all  this  s3'Stematic  recrimination  appea 
too,  in  all  the  m.ore  striking  light,  from  its  being  recorded 
perpetual  alternation  with  reports  of  conversations  displayii 
the  same  extraordinary  intellectual  vigour,  versatility,  a 
keenness  which  had  characterised  Napoleon  throughout  h 
life.  These  alone  would  have  been  sufficient  to  give  a  consider- 
able value  to  Mr.  Forsyth's  work,  if  they  had  not  been  over- 
laid with  such  a  multiplicity  of  "Blue-book"  literature. 
Add,  too,  to  the  littleness  of  Napoleon's  conduct,  the  asto- 
nishing pertinacity  with  which  it  was  carried  out,  and  (as  we 
have  before  said)  the  picture  of  the  worthlessness  of  mere 
intellectual  power  is  complete. 

Mr.  Forsyth  gives  us  no  new  information— in  fact,  he  gives 
none — respecting  Napoleon's  conduct  towards  that  Almighty 
God  against  whom  He  had  sinned,  when  his  death  was  ap- 
proaching. All  that  we  gather  is,  that  some  time  before  his 
illness  grew  serious,  he  anticipated  a  time  when  he  would  be 
glad  to  have  his  faith  in  Christianit}^  revive,  and  to  approac 
the  Sacraments  he  had  so  long  scorned. 

In  conclusion,  as  we  have  found  so  little  to  praise  in  th 
literary  skill  with  which  Mr.  Forsyth  has  executed  his  lab 
rious  task,  let  us  add  that  he  has  appended  to  it  an  excellei 
alphabetical  index,  and   that  he  appears  to  have  been  ani 


Lve 

1 


The  Religious  Cemus  of  England,  183 

lated  with  the  sincerest  desire  to  do  justice  to  all  the  parties 
hose  conduct  he  is  called  to  examine. 


THE  RELIGIOUS  CENSUS  OF  ENGLAND. 

^^ensus  of  Great  Britain,  1851.  Religious  Worship  in  Eng- 
land and  Wales.  Report  and  Tables  presented  to  both 
Jlouses  of  Parliament,  by  Command  of  her  Majesty.  Lon- 
don :  printed  by  G.  E.  Eyre  and  W.  Spottiswoode,  Printers 
to  the  Queen.     1853. 

[t  would  be  difficult  to  exaggerate  the  interest  of  this  Report 
m  "the  amount  of  accommodation  for  worship  provided  by 
i:he  various  religious  bodies  in  England  and  Wales,  and  the 
?xtent  to  which  the  means  thus  shown  to  be  available  are 
.ised."  It  has  obtained,  or  is  obtaining,  the  extensive  circu- 
ation  and  attention  which  might  have  been  expected ;  and 
dmost  all  the  organs  of  the  press  have  made  it  the  subject 
if  leading-articles,  and  found  room  for  considerable  extracts 
from  its  pages.  Having  ourselves  obtained  the  Report  on  the 
lay  of  pubhcation,  and  devoted  some  attention  to  its  contents, 
^ve  felt  a  natural  curiosity  to  see  the  use  which  the  Protestant 
press,  the  great  public  instructor  of  England  in  the  nineteenth 
century,  would  make  of  them  for  the  purposes  of  that  grand 
Catholic  debate  on  which  of  late  years  so  much  print  and 
paper  has  been  so  lavishly  expended.  A  fciir  recognition  of 
any  thing  creditable  to  Catholics,  any  deduction,  however 
obvious  or  immediate,  that  would  at  all  tell  in  their  favour, 
we  never  expected.  That  any  thing  which  could  be  said  about 
them  would  be  said  harshly  and  insolently,  spiced  with  sarcasm, 
and  seasoned  with  abuse,  we  knew  beforehand ;  nor  did  we 
ever  doubt  that  every  opportunity  would  be  taken  to  exas- 
perate and  intensify  the  No-Popery  feeling  upon  one  side, 
and  the  just  indignation  of  Catholics  upon  the  other.  That 
in  the  present  circumstances  of  the  country,  which  render  it 
so  desirable  that  goodwill  and  concord  should  prevail  as  ex- 
tensively as  possible  amongst  us,  when  the  united  forces  of  the 
empire  may  be  so  soon  required  for  action  against  a  foreign  foe, 
— that  under  these  circumstances  the  Protestant  press  should 
abstain  from  irritating  further  the  animosity  which  the  reli- 
gious heats  of  late  years  have  so  unhappily  engendered,  was  too 
evidently  a  mere  idle  hope.  But  none  of  these  reflections,  nor 
all  past  experience,  had  prepared  us  for  what  was  to  come  ;  and 


184 


The  Reliyious  Census  of  England, 


we  have  no  hesitation  in  recording  our  opinion,  that  for  sense- 
less, aimless,  baseless,  useless  lying,  the  articles  on  this  subject 
in  the  Morning  Herald  and  the  Times,  in  the  Britannia  and 
the  Press,  leave  in  the  shade  almost  all  their  previous  per- 
formances. 

We  see,  by  the  words  already  quoted  from  the  first  para- 
graph of  the  Report,  that  it  professes  to  give  information  < 
two  topics  only, — the  amount  of  accommodation  available,  ai 
the  extent  to  which  it  is  used.  The  following  figures  fron: 
pages  clxxxi.  clxxxii.  and  ccxcix.  present  us  at  one  glance 
with  the  most  important  results  of  the  inquiry  on  these  tw( 
points : 


Proportion 

Number 

Number 

MorHing 

Total 

cent  of  Attend: 

of 

of 

Attend- 

Attend- 

Sittingi. 

Churches. 

Sittings. 

ance. 

ance. 

Church  of  England   . 

Morning, 

T 

14,077 

5,317,915 

2,541,244 

5,292,551 

47-8 

Independents    .     .     . 

3,244 

1,067,760 

524,612 

1,2U,059 

49-1 

Particular  Baptists    . 

1,947 

582,953 

292,656 

740,752 

50-2 

Wesleyan       Original 

Connexion    .     .     . 

6,579 

1,447,580 

492,714 

1,544,528 

34-0 

! 

Primitive  Methodists 

2,871 

414,030 

100,125 

511,195 

24-2 

Welsh  Calvinistic  Me- 

thodists   .... 

828 

211,951 

79,728 

264,112 

37-6 

Roman  Catholics  .     . 

570 

186,111 

252,783 

383,630 

135-8 

Of  the  total  number  of  sittings  belonging  to  all  the  thij 
nine  sects  mentioned  in  the  Report,  nine-tenths  are  posses 
by  the  seven  denominations  here  mentioned. 

Now  what  have  been  the  inferences  drawn  by  the 
testant  press  from  these  returns?    The  newspapers  allude< 
have,  in  the  first  place,  utterly  ignored  the  real  meaning,  see 
and  object  of  the  Report,  and  have  used  the  returns  for  a 
pose  to  which  they  do  not,  cannot,  and  never  were  intend 
to  apply,    viz.    as  a  means  of  ascertaining    the    number 
Catholics  in  England ;  and  worthless  as  the   evidence  of  tl 
returns  on  this  point  is,  they  have  deliberately  falsified  it 
order  to  persuade  their  readers  that  the  Catholics  ofEnglai 
are  a  contemptible  fraction  of  the  nation.     The  Times  tel 
us  that  of  late  years  one  sect  has  disturbed  the  country  by  tl 
extravagance    of  its  pretensions  and  the  exaggeration  of  i 
own  importance.     It  sums    up    the    outrages   committed 
Catholics, — which  on  inspection  we  find  to  consist  of  the  | 
suits  andinjiu'ies  which  have  been  inflicted  on  ourselves,- 
to  the  inquiry  what  is  the  total  number  of  these  noisy 
gionists  among  the  17,000,000  of  our  peo2)le,  answers,  wil 


The  Religious  Census  of  England,  185 

)te  of  exclamation,  less  than  ^00,000.     The  Mornirig  Herald, 
ue  to  its  reputation,  and  defying  rivalry  in  that  peculiar 
•mbination   of  dulness  and  malignity  for  which  it  has  been 
long  notorious,  while   it   asserts    and  triumphs  over  the 
lucity  of  our  numbers,  declares  furtlier  that  it  does  not  be- 
jve  a  word  of  tlie  returns  furnished  by  our  clergy  ;  for  that, 
ained  as  they  are  by  the  teaching  of  St.  Alphonsus,  their 
atements  must  be  looked  on  as  no  better  than  so  many 
Isehoods.     The  Britannia,  a  "  family"  paper,  and  w^eekly 
•gan    of  the  "  heavy  fathers"  of  Low-church  Toryism,  dis- 
)vers  "  that  the  Roman  Catholic  population  in  England  and 
►^ales  does  not  exceed  in  numbers  200,000  souls;  that  out  of 
population  of  18,000,000,  the  Bishop  of  Rome  has  only  this 
iltry  and  insignificant  number  of  adherents;"  and  thinks  it 
really  wonderful  that  with  such  a  mere  handful  of  votaries, 
le  Pope  should  have  succeeded  in  so  long  imposing  upon  the 
edulity    of  the  nation."      But  the  Derby-Disraelite  Press, 
le  paper  which  by  its  wit  and  talent  was  to  redeem  the  credit 
f  the  party,  and  efface  the  impression  left  by  the  short  and 
isastrous  reign    of  its  Beresfords,  its  Malmesburys,  and  its 
taffords, — the  Press,  which  has  recently  urged  the  nation  to 
?st  no  longer  satisfied  with  a  policy  of  mere  suspicion  and 
islike  towards  Papists,  and  has  volunteered  to  propose  mea- 
ires  of  active  hostility  and  positive  repression, — i\\e  Press  h'd^ 
erceived  a  danger  which  had  escaped  its  contemporaries,  and 
as  guarded  itself  against  it  with  its  usual  skill.     For,  indeed, 
as  there  not  a  danger  lest  the  Protestant  public, — finding  that 
;  had  been  deceived  as  to  the  likelihood  of  the  immediate  in- 
roduction  of  the  Inquisition,  the  rekindling  of  Smithfield  fires, 
nd  the  re-establishment   of  "  arbitrary  power  and  wooden 
hoes"  by   the    vast  numbers    of  Jesuits  in  England,  some 
f  whom  are  already  in  the  kitchens,  sculleries,  or  pantries 
f  every  house ;    hundreds   of  whom  have  gained  admission 
:ito  the  Universities,  and  who  already  outnumber  loyal  Pro- 
estants  in  the  palace  of  our  gracious  Queen  (fcicts  for  which 
ide  the  Protestant  newspaper-files  for  the  last  three  years 
>assim), — was  there  not  a  danger,  we  say,  lest  the  Protestant 
)ublic,  now  disabused  on  this  subject,  should  be  tempted  to 
•xclaim,  that  if  there  were  but  200,000  Papists  in  all  Eng- 
and,  there  was,  after  all,  no  such  immediate  and  inevitable 
isk?  Might  it  not  be  feared  lest  Protestant  valour,  relying  on 
I  majority  of  90  to  1,  might  relax  its  vigilance;  and  a  fatal 
ndifference   to  the   fiery  denunciations  of  a  Stowell,  or   the 
ponderous  perorations  of  a  Shaftesbury,  leave  those  Christian 
rhampions  to  preach  envy,  hatred,  and  all  ill-will,  to  empty 
jenches  and  deserted  platforms  ?    It  was  a  hard  dilemma :  on 


1-86  The  Religious  Census  of  England, 

the  one  hand  to  omit  the  repetition  of  a  good  strong  bouncii, 
lie,  and  one  too  which  might  mortify  the  Papists  ;  on  the  otht 
to  run  the  risk  of  lowering  the  market,  and  diminishing  the 
profits  of  the  retail  trade  in  bigotry  and  slander.  How,  then, 
did  the  Press  proceed  ?  It  first  informed  its  readers  that  there 
were  but  200,000  Catholics  in  all  England,  and  then  warned 
them  (on  the  poet's  principle,  "  my  wound  is  great  because  il 
is  so  small"),  that  the  paucity  of  the  Popish  forces  shoulc 
stimulate  Protestants  to  new  exertions ;  for  that  the  dangei 
was  increased,  and  not  lessened,  by  the  numerical  insignificance 
of  the  enemy.  And  the  wretched  twaddlers  who  can  graveh 
put  forth  trash  like  this,  as  their  claim  to  be  listened  to  b; 
the  English  people,  are  the  men  w'ho  have  volunteered  t< 
furnish  Parliament  with  a  scheme  for  the  legislative  repres 
sion  of  Popery  by  positive  enactments !  Who,  after  this,  wil 
not  exclaim  with  John  Dryden  : 

"  Defend  us,  gracious  Providence! 
What  would  these  madmen  have  ? 
Insult  us  first,  without  pretence, 
Deceive  us,  without  common  sense, 
And  without  power  enslave," 

We  have  shown  that  these  returns  were  not  intended  t 
supply  information  as  to  the  amount  of  the  population  ;  and 
moment's  reflection  will  demonstrate  that  they  are  incap?" ' 
of  aflTording  it.  What  argument  as  to  population  can  be  drj 
from  the  number  of  church-sittings,  when  the  supply  of  tl 
must  depend  on  the  wealth  as  well  as  on  the  wants  ofdiftei 
sects;  and  when,  instead  of  all  sects  being  on  an  equal  fool 
in  this  respect,  the  contrasts  between  them  are  as  strong 
can  be  imagined  ?  In  the  case  of  Catholics,  the  comparJ 
is  pre-eminently  absurd.  Firstly,  they  require  fewer  sittii 
owing  to  the  greater  number  of  their  morning  services,  wl 
alone  are  obligatory  upon  the  people ;  and  secondly,  after  b( 
oppressed  and  proscribed  for  centuries,  they  had  scarcely  be^ 
to  practise  their  religion  in  public,  when  a  vast  immigrati< 
from  the  sister-country  increased  their  numbers  and  respon: 
bilities,  whilst  it  reduced  the  average  of  their  resources  tc 
degree  little  above  pauperism  itself.  And  under  these  c 
cumstances,  with  their  few  and  scanty  chapels  crowded  to  si 
focation,  they  are  to  be  compared  forsooth  with  Protestai 
of  the  endowed  Establishment,  with  their  vast  and  half-enij 
churches,  the  greater  part  of  which  would  never  have  exist 
but  for  the  piety  of  Catholics ! 

But  we  will  not  leave  the  excuse  open,  that  the  erroi 
the  Protestant  press  on  this  subject  can  be  ascribed  to 
stupidity  or  want  of  reasoning  power.     The  very  test  inv( 


The  Religious  Census  of  England,  187 

by  themselves,  viz.  the  comparative  number  of  church-sittings, 
convicts  them  of  a  huge  and  deliberate  falsehood.  For  if  we 
were  to  grant  tliat  the  whole  number  of  sittings  was  to  the 
Catholic  sittings  as  the  whole  population  to  the  Catholic  popu- 
lation, the  result  would  be : 

Total  sittings ,  .  .  10,212,563  I  Total  population  .  .  17,927,609 
Catholic  sittings      .         .  186,111     |     Catholic  population         .  326,707 

So  that,  to  reduce  the  number  of  Catholics  to  200,000,  it  was 
necessary  for  our  public  instructors  to  filch  60  per  cent  from 
the  amount  furnished  by  their  own  calculations. 

Other  comparisons  afforded  by  the  returns  are  those  of  the 
attendances  of  different  sects.  It  will  be  seen  that,  by  assum- 
ing a  proportion  to  exist  between  attendances  and  population, 
the  falsehood  of  our  journalists  becomes  yet  more  preposterous: 

Total  Sunday  attendance  .  10,896,066  1  Total  morning  attendance  4,647,842 

Catholic  ditto  .         .         .        383,630  1  Catholic  ditto  .         .         .  252,783 

Total  population       .         .  17,927,609  I  Total  population       .         .  17,927,609 

Catholic  ditto  .         .         .        631,297  |  Catholic  ditto  .         .         .  975,324 

But  though  these  figures  are  conclusive  against  those  who 
contend  that  it  may  be  proved  by  the  returns  in  Mr.  Mann's 
Report  that  the  number  of  Catholics  does  not  exceed  200,000, 
it  must  not  be  imagined  that  they  can  be  relied  on  as  evidence 
of  our  true  numbers.  In  reality,  there  were  not  at  any  one 
period  of  the  day  on  Census  Sunday  more  than  five  million 
worshippers  of  all  denominations  ;  and  not  the  slightest  infor- 
mation is  afforded  as  to  how  many  attended  more  than  one 
service,  or  as  to  the  proportion  in  which  the  many  millions 
who  never  entered  church  on  that  day  at  all  are  to  be  divided 
among  different  sects. 

The  real  amount  of  the  Catholic  population  is  a  question 
of  much  interest,  and  involved  in  considerable  doubt.  We  have 
devoted  some  pains  to  the  subject,  and  shall  state  the  result 
not  only  of  our  own  investigations,  but  of  the  inquiries  we 
have  made  in  quarters  the  best  informed.  We  are  anxious, 
however,  that  there  should  be  no  misconception  as  to  our  view 
of  the  real  importance  or  utility  of  this  inquiry.  Certainly 
the  points  in  dispute  between  ourselves  and  Protestants  are 
not  in  the  least  dependent  on  our  numbers.  Our  right  to  the 
free  practice  and  enjoyment  of  our  religion,  and  to  all  the  civil 
privileges  of  English  citizens,  would  not  be  the  least  impaired, 
were  our  numbers  only  half  as  large  as  the  falsest  of  our  news- 
paper scribes  pretend.  But  for  own  instruction,  and  that 
none  may  underrate  the  urgent  and  imperious  nature  of  the 
demands  which  our  situation  makes  of  us,  we  think  it  neces- 


188  The  Religious  Census  of  England, 

sary  to  demonstrate  how  frightful  is  the  disproportion  between 
our  real  wants  and  the  supply  that  we  provide  for  them.  Not 
for  self-glorification  do  we  speak  on  this  subject,  but  for  self- 
abasement  and  humiliation.  Would  to  God  that  on  a  point 
so  vital  we  could  speak  with  sufficient  force  and  efficacy! 
Would  to  God  that  all  ideas  of  self-satisfaction  at  what  has 
been  achieved  might  be  for  ever  routed  from  the  minds  of  all 
our  readers  of  all  classes,  by  the  contemplation  of  that  which 
remains  undone  ! 

The  Catholic  population  at  the  present  moment  is,  in  all 
probability,  between  1,250,000  and  1,500,000.  We  have  been 
assured  by  the  bisliop  of  one  of  our  most  important  dioceses, 
that  if  the  calculation  of  the  Catholic  population  in  his  diocese 
"be  made  according  to  the  approved  ratio,  from  the  number  of 
baptisms  in  Catholic  churches,  the  result  is  so  enormous  as  to  be 
positively  appalling,  absolutely  incredible.  And  the  only  way 
in  which  the  bishop  could  reduce  the  numbers  to  something 
more  closely  approximating  to  his  own  estimate  of  the  number 
of  Catholics  intrusted  to  his  charge,  was  by  supposing  that  a 
number  of  children  were  baptised  here,  whose  parents  were 
merely  passing  through  England  e7i  route  for  America  or  the 
colonies;  or,  that  many  Protestant  parents  must  bring  their 
children  to  the  Catholic  clergy  to  be  baptised.  It  appears, 
from  a  letter  which  was  published  by  a  Catholic  barrister  in 
the  Times  of  the  17th  of  January,  that  the  marriage-returnj 
of  the  Registrar-general  for  the  year  1851  show  an  asceri 
tained  amount  of  763,811  Catholics  in  England,  but  that  ai 
addition  was  to  be  made  to  this  number  on  account  of  the 
Irish  immigrants,  many  thousands  of  whom  arrive  annuallj 
in  England,  having  been  already  married  in  Ireland,  and  fur^ 
nish  an  accession  to  our  population  unrepresented  by  the  re^ 
gistrar's  return  ;  and  further,  that  to  the  number  so  ini 
creased,  yet  another  considerable  addition  must  be  made  ol 
116  souls  for  every  Catholic  marriage  which  in  1851  was  c( 
lebrated  according  to  the  rites  of  the  Establishment.  Writing,^ 
as  we  are,  for  Catholics  who  can  judge  by  their  own  know- 
ledge of  the  facts,  we  deem  it  unnecessary  to  linger  on  this 
point;  but  it  may  be  worth  while  to  add  an  independent 
proof,  supplied  by  the  writer  of  the  letter  referred  to,  fror 
the  statistical  returns  of  the  Catholic  Missions  published  bj 
the  Propaganda,  in  which  the  Catholics  in  England  in  184^ 
were  already  computed  to  be  1,000,000  strong.  Let  tlu 
emigration  from  Ireland  after  the  famine  be  remembered, 
well  as  the  increase  in  Catholic  churches  since  that  day  ;  an( 
that  the  planting  of  a  Catholic  church  in  any  locality  has  the 
invariable  effect  of  bringing  to  light  the  existence  of  a  numbe| 


The  Religious  Census  of  England,  189 

of  Catholics  of  whom  no  account  had  previously  been  taken ; 
and  our  readers  will  be  perfectly  satisfied  that,  by  whatever 
method  we  proceed,  we  cannot  estimate  our  present  popula- 
tion as  less  than  the  given  number  of  1,250,000  to  1,500,000 
souls. 

What,  then,  is  the  spiritual  provision  for  these  multitudes  ? 
To  how  many  of  them  can  we,  according  to  our  present 
means,  offer  the  advantages  of  education  for  their  cliildren,  or 
the  opportunity  of  practising  their  religion  for  themselves  ? 
Jt  is  to  be  feared  that  in  schools  and  teachers  we  are  yet 
more  deficient  than  in  priests  and  churches.  In  the  last  re- 
spect our  exertions  of  late  years  have  been  great  and  credit- 
able. The  report  before  us  shows  (p.  cxlviii.)  that  the  in- 
crease in  our  cluu'ch-sittings  has  been  87'2  per  cent  during  a 
period  in  which  the  increase  of  Protestant  sittings  of  all  de- 
nominations unitedly  was  but  QG'S  per  cent.  So  that,  in  spite 
of  poverty,  persecution,  and  discouragement;  in  spite  of  the 
utter  disproportion  of  our  means  to  those  of  the  state-endowed 
Establishment,  which,  in  addition  to  its  vast  possessions,  has 
been  all  the  time  in  constant  receipt  of  parliamentary  grants 
made  for  this  special  purpose,  paid  out  of  the  taxes  to  which 
we  contribute;  in  spite  of  the  boasted  Evangelical  and  Pu- 
seyite  revivals,  of  the  religious  societies,  and  of  the  general 
taste  for  church-building, — we  have  not  only  kept  pace  with, 
but  actually  outstripped,  our  Protestant  competitors. 

Still,  this  does  not  blot  out,  nor  even  diminish,  the  terrible 
significancy  of  the  fact  that,  on  the  30th  March,  1851,  the 
number  of  Catholic  church-attendances  was  but  383,630,  of 
which  number  only  252,783  belong  to  the  morning  services. 
We  cannot,  for  any  practical  purpose,  take  the  number  of  in- 
dividual Catholics  who  attend  church  on  Sunday  to  be  larger 
than  the  number  of  those  who  comply  with  the  obligation  of 
the  day  by  hearing  Mass.  And  what  is  the  result?  That  out 
of  a  population  of  1,500,000,  only  one  in  six  hears  Mass 
upon  a  Sunday.  The  average  number  of  persons  in  a  family, 
according  to  the  census  of  1851,  is  less  than  five;  so  that  if 
we  were  to  suppose  that  in  no  instance  had  more  than  two 
members  of  one  family  attended  Mass,  we  should  have 
175,000  Catholic  families,  not  one  member  of  which  had  as- 
sisted at  the  adorable  Sacrifice.  And  yet  this  statement  is 
below  the  truth !  But,  grievous  and  appalling  as  is  such  a 
state  of  things,  at  least  we  are  in  a  position  to  account  for 
it.  We  know  the  cause,  and  we  discern  the  remedy.  Not 
vice,  not  indifference,  not  neglect,  not  unbelief,  keeps  these 
thousands  from  participation  in  the  Sacred  Rite,  or  deprives 
them  of  the  Word  of  God  from  the  mouth  of  the  preacher* 


190  Short  Notices, 

If  they  perish,  they  perish  because  there  are  none  to  give 
them  bread.  If  they  abstain  from  church,  they  abstain  be- 
cause they  have  no  church  to  go  to,  or  none  that  would  hold 
them  if  they  went.  From  the  returns  before  us,  and  accord- 
ing to  the  extract  given  above,  it  appears  that,  whereas  the 
attendance  of  the  six  great  Protestant  sects  varies,  in  its  pro- 
portion to  the  number  of  available  sittings,  from  24  to  50  per 
cent.  Catholics  occupy  135  per  cent  of  their  available  sit- 
tings at  their  morning  services.  Whatever  be  thought  of  the 
great  and  rapid  increase  in  the  number  of  our  churches  and 
our  clergy  (and  there  has  been  during  the  last  few  years  an 
increase  of  28  and  44'  per  cent  respectively),  it  is  quite  cer- 
tain that  the  number  of  both  may  be  doubled  and  tripled 
before  the  wants  of  our  existing  population  can  be  adequately 
supplied.  These  things,  however,  are  in  the  hands  of  God. 
If  He  has  made  the  harvest  great,  it  is  from  His  grace  that 
we  must  hope  for  labourers  to  reap  it.  It  must  be  our  part, 
while  on  the  one  hand  we  shrink  from  no  exertions  to  acquit 
ourselves  of  the  responsibility  imposed  upon  us,  to  remember 
that  He  is  jealous  of  His  glory,  and  will  not  share  it  with 
another.  It  would  be  sad,  indeed,  if  we  should  ever  become 
puffed  up  with  vain  complacency  at  the  increase  of  our  num- 
bers, or  ever  make  the  working  of  Providence  upon  the  nation's 
heart  the  subject  of  a  stupid  personal  triumph  in  the  progress 
of  our  own  opinions. 

We  shall  have  more  to  say  on  this  subject  on  a  future  oc- 
casion. At  present  we  would  only  exhort  our  readers  to  look 
back  on  what  has  been  achieved,  with  the  hope  that  God  will 
finish  what  He  has  begun  ;  and  manfully  gird  themselves  to 
the  task  of  providing  for  the  appalling  spiritual  destitution  of 
our  poor,  cheered  by  the  remembrance  that  they  are  in  the 
hands  of  Him  who  '*  had  compassion  on  the  multitudes,  lest 
being  sent  away  fasting,  they  should  perish  by  the  road." 


THEOLOGY,  PHILOSOPHY,  &c. 

Memoirs  of  the  Life  and  Writings  of  John  Pye  Smith,  D.D., 
F.R.S.,  F.G.S.,  late  T/ieolorjical  Tutor  of  the  Old  College,  llomcrton. 
By  John  Medway.  (Jackson  and  VValforil.)  Dr.  Smith  held  for  half 
a  century  a  foremost  place  among  the  Independent  Protestant  Dis- 
senters ;  and  by  iiis  writings  in  the  Eclectic  Review  and  elsewhere  he 
attracted  a  good  deal  of  attention  from  members  of  other  sects.   He  wa« 


Short  Notices,  191 

deeply  engaged  yi  the  Unitarian  controversy  with  Belsham  ;  in  another 
controversy  concerning- the  extent  of  the  inspiration  of  Scripture;  and  in 
the  very  laudable  attempt  to  reconcile  modern  science  witli  Revelation, 
— on  which  subject  his  book  on  scriptural  geology  is  at  present  the  most 
popular  in  England,  and  furnishes  the  grouTidwork  of  almost  all  the 
minor  abstracts  on  the  same  question.  In  spite  of  his  fame,  a  Catholic 
will  find  his  theology  utterly  inconsistent  with  itself  and  contemptible; 
a  result  ahnost  necessary,  indeed,  when  a  man  disregards  the  accumu- 
lated thought  of  ages,  and  sets  up  against  it  a  theory  of  yesterday, 
■which,  if  not  woven  out  of  his  own  brain,  is  simply  the  opinion  of  a 
few  individuals  as  ialiible  as  himself.  Some  of  the  results  of  Dr.  Smith's 
investigations  are  curious:  e.  g.  "  The  Song  of  Solomon  is  a  constructive 
eulogy  upon  monogamy  !"  Pp.  70  to  83  of  the  book  are  taken  up  with 
the  Doctor's  inaugural  address  in  assuming  his  functions  as  tutor  at 
Honierton  ;  in  wliich,  single-handed,  he  promises  to  lead  his  pupils,  in 
the  course  of  four  years,  through  every  branch  of  learning, — classical, 
scientific,  and  imaginative; — it  might  have  furnished  Dr.  Newman 
Vith  an  amusing  illustration  of  the  intellectual  bazaar,  for  his  lectures 
on  University  education.  Some  of  his  private  memoranda  contain,  to 
our  minds,  much  cant;  as  where  the  denouncer  of  human  merit  says 
of  his  examination  of  conscience,  "  I  trust  I  did  impartially  and  simply 
put  the  important  queries  to  my  conscience  ;  and  1  bless  the  Lord  for 
the  comfortable  answers  He  enabled  me  to  draw"  (p.  28).  There  are 
several  letters;  in  one  of  which  he  naively  advises  a  young  minister  to 
make  liis  confession  of  faith  a  "  happy  junction  of  firm  conviction  and 
modest  humility,"  and  to  "avoid  the  a23pcarance  of  seeming  to  think 
him^eU fixed  and  infallible.''  We  suppose  that  Dr.  Smitii  was  about 
the  first  Protestant  honest  enough  to  recommend  wavering  in  faith  as 
peculiarly  beseeming  a  minister  of  religion.  In  the  chapter  where  the 
virtues  of  this  new  "  light"  are  discussed,  we  are  told  that  his  i)eculiar 
graces  were  three, — "  a  love  of  enlightened  liberty,  a  love  of  all  valuable 
knowledge,  and  eminent  scriptural  piety."  We  presume  these  are  the 
Honierton  substitutes  for  the  theological  virtues  of  faith,  hope,  and 
charity. 

Mr.  M'Corry,  of  Perth,  has  recently  published  three  clever  pam- 
phlets (Edinburgh,  INIursh  and  Beattie),  one  of  which  is  of  more  than 
ordinary  value,  and  more  than  temporary  interest.  21ie  Jesuit,  an  his- 
torical Sketch  of  the  Rise,  Fall,  and  Restoration  of  the  Sociehj  of  Jesus, 
is  hardly  all  that  it  promises  in  its  title,  so  far  as  the  "fall  and  resto- 
ration" are  concerned,  which  it  touches  on  too  briefly,  though  satisfac- 
torily. Of  the  rise  of  the  Society,  its  principles  and  its  enemies,  it  gives  a 
lively,  pointed,  and  really  masterly  coup  d'ceil.  It  may  be  unhesitatingly 
placed  in  the  hands  of  half-informed  Catholics  or  ill-informed  Protestants, 
who  are  led  away  by  the  vulgar  declamations  on  the  wickedness  of 
Jesuits.     Any  person  who  keeps  a  catalogue  of  good  books  and  pam- 

fkhlets  for  distribution  will  do  well  to  add  Mr.  M'Corrv's  Jesuit  to  the 
ist.  ^ 

Of  his  other  two  brochures — Two  Letters  to  Hugh  Barclay,  Esq.,  and 
The  Church  of  Ireland,  her  Religion  and  Learning, — the  latter  is  a 
good  sermon  preached  last  St.  Patrick's  day  ;  and  the  former  a  clever 
and  amusing  rejoinder  to  an  (apparently)  very  commonplace  and  silly 
"  Plea  for  Chri.stian  Union"  by  the  said  Mr.  Barclay,  sheriff-substi- 
tute of  Perthshire.  In  one  short  sentence  Mr.  M'Corry  pithily  gives 
the  whole  history  of  heresy  :  "  Sects  can  only  eke  out  their  ephemeral 
existence  by  waning  against  the  Catholic  Cliurch." 

The  new  edition  of  Andrews's  Critical  and  Historical  Review  of 


19;^  Short  Notices. 

Fox^s  Booh  of  Martyrs  (London,  M.  Andrews),  whick  was  noticed  in 
our  pages  as  it  was  coming  out  in  parts,  is  now  con)pIeted.  The  work 
has  been  so  long  well  known  to  the  Catholic  public,  that  any  lengthened 
notice  of  its  contents  is  unnecessary. 

Protestantism  essentially  a  Persecuting  Peligion,  by  another  convert 
from  Anglicanism  (York,  Browne  ;  London,  Little),  contains  some  ac- 
count of  the  martyred  priests  and  laity  who  suffered  in  England  from 
1577  to  1681,  taken  from  Dr.  Chnlloner^s  work  ;  one  or  two  curious 
archiepiscopal  documents  illustrating  the  Protestant  ideas  on  the  subject 
of  toleration  in  the  days  ofJamesL;  several  anecdotes  of  persecution 
of  converts  in  the  present  day,  for  whose  accuracy  the  writer  vouches; 
and  a  great  deal  of  other  matter  which  does  not  seem  to  us  very  perti- 
nent to  the  matter  in  hand. 

T/te  PeUgion  of  the  Heart ;  a  Manual  of  Faith  and  Duty,  by  Leigh 
Hunt  (London,  John  Chapman).  The  new  "  Church"  of  Universalists 
is  divided  into  two  parts :  at  one  end  are  your  contemplative  men,  your 
humanitarians,  who  sicken  at  the  deaih  of  a  fly,  reject  the  Old  Testa- 
ment as  the  authorisation  of  massacre,  and  the  New  Testament  because 
it  threatens  hell;  while  at  the  other  end  are  its  practical  men  of  busi- 
ness, Mazzini,  Kossuth,  and  Louis  Bianc,  the  guillotine,  the  infernal 
machine,  and  the  stiletto.  Its  literary  apostles  are  all  gentleness;  its 
apostles  militant  wear  red  caps,  and  ai)pear  behind  barricades.  The 
author  of  this  book  seems  to  have  discovered  tiiat  among  the  namby- 
pamby  members  of  this  "  Church"  there  are  persons  who  have  a  yearn- 
ing of  mind  towards  devotional  practices,  and  who  run  some  risk,  if 
they  follow  their  bent,  of  making  shipwreck  of  their  *'  faith."  He 
therefore  assures  them  that  they  may  stay  where  they  are,  and  yet 
have  all  they  want;  just  as  Dr.  Pusey  allows  his  Romanising  friends  to 
invoke  any  saint  they  like,  provided  they  will  but  stop  in  his  fold. 

The  principles  of  the  book  are  identical  with  those  of  Mi'.  Maurice 
and  of  his  school.  ''  God  has  written  his  religion  in  the  heart;"  thei'e- 
fore  the  heart  is  the  sole  test  of  revelation.  "  Doctrines  revolting  to  the 
heart  are  not  made  to  endure,  however  mixed  up  they  may  be  with 
lessons  the  most  divine  ;"  hence  all  laws  or  dogmas  that  savour  of 
severity  or  cruelty  are  rejected.  *'  As  to  punishment  after  death,  little 
can  be  imagined  of  it  in  a  book  like  this,  because  the  heart  revolts 
from  it."  The  prayers  that  he  furnishes  to  the  praying  members  of 
his  church  are  curiosities;  they  are  "  i-ather  aspirations  than  petitions, 
hoping  rather  than  requesting,"  because  it  is  not  certain  that  the  Spirit 
of  the  Universe  alters  his  laws  at  the  request  of  men  ;  the  objective  use 
of  prajer  is  uncertain,  its  subjective  utility  is  sure.  Words  ot  praise  are 
never  to  be  used  :  to  praise  is  to  upraise ;  and  to  upraise  God  is  folly  or 
worse.  On  his  principles,  we  should  have  thought  that  prayer  also  is 
mere  self-deception.  The  discourses  which  follow  the  liturgy  develop 
the  author's  eclectic  system, — half  stoical,  half  epicurean ;  the  last  of 
them  gives  a  list  of  the  members  of  his  Pantheon  of  heroes,  in  which 
we  have  our  Lord  blasphemously  classed  with  Confucius,  Socrates, 
Epictetus,  and  Marcus  Antoninus,  after  tlie  fashion  of  the  Chapel  of 
Heliogabalus. 

The  Rev.  F.  Close  has  undertaken  to  -prove  fro7n  Sa'ipture  that  the 
power  of  Satan  is  now  restrained  to  ])urely  s])iritual  operations,  so  that 
he  cannot  work  physical  miracles,  lie  is  ably  answered  by  an  anony- 
mous writer  in  a  pamj)hlet  entitled  Satanic  Agency  and  Table  Turning 
(London,  Bosworth).  The  principles  of  this  writer,  are,  in  the  main, 
ours  also ;  his  conclusions  are  not. 


Short  Notices.  193 


MISCELLANEOUS  LITERATURE. 

The  '^  People's  Edition"  of  Sir  Arcliibald  Alison's  History  of  Europe 
from  the  French  Revolutiun  to  the  Restoration  of  the  Bourbons  (Black- 
wood) will  be  welcome  to  a  large  class  of  readers,  to  whom  a  work  in 
20  volumes  at  ten  shillimrs  a  volume  is  an  unattainable  possession. 
Even  at  this  latter  price,  and  at  the  original  one  still  higher,  this  history 
has  passed  through  eight  editions  ;  and  we  have  no  doubt  that  this  cheap 
issue,  which  will  include  the  whole  in  12  volumes  at  four  shillings  each, 
will  not  be  the  last.  The  type  is  of  course  small,  but  it  is  legible  for  its 
size  ;   and  the  whole  is  most  respectably  got  up. 

Of  the  merits  of  Sir  Archibald's  work  it  is  needless  to  speak.  He  is 
a  Tory  in  politics ;  he  is  too  much  given  to  interrupt  the  march  of 
his  narrative  by  disquisitions  ;  and  his  style  lacks  variety.  Still,  it  is  a 
book  containing  an  immense  auiount  of  information  ;  its  author  has  the 
true  spirit  of  an  historian  ;  his  manner  is  nervous,  manly,  and  earnest; 
and  whatever  the  effects  of  his  political  ])repossessions  or  prejudices,  he 
is  free  from  that  odious  sham-philosophical  patronising  of  all  tliat  is 
best  in  man's  actions,  which  in  writers  of  Macaulay's  school  is  some- 
times mistaken  for  liberality  of  mind.  Sir  Archibald  being  a  Protestant, 
occasionally  utters  an  opinion  which  we  cannot  but  regret  and  condemn  ; 
but  his  Protestantism  is  not  such  as  to  prevent  him  from  heartily  ad- 
miring the  conduct  of  good  Catholics,  and  from  expressing  it  in  the 
plainest  terms.  In  such  passages  as  the  narratives  of  the  first  struggles 
between  the  French  government  and  the  Church,  of  the  execution  of 
Louis  XVL,  and  ths  war  in  La  Vendee,  it  is  only  here  and  there  that  he 
shows  that  he  is  a  Protestant.  Neither  does  he  adopt  tiio  offensive 
cant  of  the  Whig  school  of  historians  :  when  contrasting  the  effeminacy 
of  modern  Italy  with  the  strength  of  the  old  Romans  and  of  the  present 
Cisalpine  nations,  it  never  occurs  to  Alison,  as  it  does  to  many  others, 
to  lay  it  all  to  the  door  of  the  Pope  and  the  Catholic  Church.  In  fact, 
there  are  few  histories  written  by  Protestants  which  can  witli  so  little 
hesitation  be  placed  in  the  hands  of  the  Catholic  student.  As  yet  only 
the  first  three  volumes  of  the  present  edition  have  appeared. 

Whilst  the  name  of  Dickens  is  giving  circulation  to  a  Child's  History 
of  England  as  inaccurate  in  fact  as  it  is  pernicious  in  principle,  we 
are  glad  to  see  a  fifth  edition  of  Kings  of  England,  a  Histonj  for 
Young  Children  (London,  J.  and  C.  Moziey) ;  whose  principles,  if  they 
are  not  Catholic,  yet  certainly  are  of  a  far  higher  order  than  those 
which  pervade  most  Protestant  histories.  Landmarks  of  History: 
Middle  Ages,  from  the  reign  of  Charlemagne  to  that  of  Charles  K,  by 
the  same  author  and  publishers,  is  far  more  disfigured  by  the  traditions 
of  Protestantism.  It  contains  also  some  inaccurate  statements  of  fact: 
as,  that  the  Manichrean  heresy  arose  in  the  seventh  centurj'-;  that  St. 
John  was  cast  into  boiling  oil  at  the  Lateran  gate,  where  the  church 
stands  in  which  so  many  councils  have  been  held,  &c.  &c.  At  the  same 
time,  the  ;;/««  of  the  work  is  admirable,  and  parts  of  it  are  very  well 
executed.  The  genealogical  tables  of  the  sovereigns  of  each  country 
during  that  most  intricate  period  are  very  carefully  drawn  up,  and  will 
be  found  to  contain  a  useful  summary  of  mediaeval  history.  'Vheve  is  not 
room  for  the  same  faults  in  the  first  part  of  this  work— Part  I.  From 
the  Earliest  Times  to  the  Mahometan  Conquest  (J.  and  C.  Moziey), — 
which  is  intended  to  give  a  general  idea  of  the  characteristics  and 
course  of  the  changing  empires  of  classical  times,  with  an  especial  view 


194  Short  Notices. 

to  the  better  understanding  of  Scripture  history  and  the  growth  of  the 
Church.  New  editions  have  just  appeared  of  those  more  scholar-like 
works  of  the  same  class  which  were  edited  by  the  bite  Rev.  T.  K.  Arnold. 
The  Handbooks  of  Geography  and  History^  by  Wilhelm  Pntz,  in  three 
parts,  Ancient,  Mediceval,  ajid  Modern  (Rivingtons),  are  truly  German. 
The  labour  required  for  such  compilations,  and  the  minute  accuracy 
with  which  they  are  executed,  sufficiently  betoken  the  nation  from 
which  they  proceed.  At  the  same  time,  we  can  scarcely  either  desire  or 
anticipate  for  them  any  very  extensive  use  in  our  public  schools :  they 
are  admirable  as  works  of  reference,  either  for  a  very  advanced  student 
or  for  the  use  of  the  schoolmaster  ;  but  to  learn  geograjdiy  and  history 
from  them  for  the  first  time  would,  we  think,  be  intolerable.  We  can 
only  say  of  them  what  Mr.  Rose  once  said  of  Mosheim's  Ecclesiastical 
History,  that  they  are  "a  careful  and  laborious  conglomeration  of  facts ;" 
that  the  author  '^  has  actually  wedged  and  driven  in  one  fact  after  another 
into  his  pages  till  they  bristle  with  facts,  and  the  heart  and  the  imagina- 
tion are  alike  beaten  down  and  crushed  to  pieces."  Such  works  are 
very  useful  and  valuable  in  their  places,  but  not,  in  our  opinion,  good 
school-books. 

If  we  remember  rightly.  Father  Newman  somewhere  said  in  one  of 
his  works  written  before  he  was  a  Catholic,  that  Gibbon  was  the  best 
ecclesiastical  historian  of  whom  Protestant  England  could  boast.  Any 
how  his  History  of  the  Decline  and  Fall  of  the  Roman  Empire  is  so  far 
an  ecclesiastical  history,  that  we  are  not  surprised  that  "  an  English 
Churchman"  should  have  undertaken  the  labour  of  preparing  a  new 
edition  (Bohn's  British  Classics),  with  carefully-selected  notes  from  the 
labours  of  his  numerous  predecessors,  ffe  seems  to  have  brought  to 
his  task  a  very  extensive  acquaintance  with  his  subject,  and  to  have 
spared  no  pains  in  collecting  and  sifting  materials  for  the  elucidation  of 
all  doubtful  points  and  the  correction  of  all  errors.  With  what  success 
he  will  thread  his  way  through  the  pitfalls  of  the  fifteenth  and  sixteenth 
chapters  remains  to  be  proved,  the  present  volume  having  stopped  just 
short  of  them.  If,  however,  we  may  judge  from  the  way  in  which  he 
has  begun  his  work,  we  suspect  that  it  will  be  well  continued.  We 
only  regret  that  he  should  hesitate  to  exercise  a  certain  discretion 
as  to  expurgating  some  of  the  original  notes  of  Gihbon  himself.  There 
are  many  which  are  grossly  offensive  against  decency,  without  being  in 
any  way  necessary  to  explain  or  illustrate  the  text;  and  they  should  not 
be  allowed  to  remain  in  a  book  which  every  student  of  history  has  oc- 
casion to  consult.  We  would  also  suggest,  as  a  very  material  improve- 
ment in  the  typography  at  small  cost,  that  the  notes  should  not  run  one 
into  another  in  a  continuous  line,  but  that  each  note  should  have  its 
OAvn  line  in  the  usual  manner. 


The  Foreign  Tour  of  Brown,  Jones,  and  Robinson,  hy  Richard  Doyle 
(Bradbury  and  Evans),  is  the  funniest  and  wittiest  book  we  have  seen 
for  many  a  day.  The  remarkable  versatility  of  fancy  and  keen  eye  for 
the  comical  which  were  displayed  by  Mr.  Doyle  in  Pips's  Diary,  and  his 
other  innumerable  sketches  in  Pwwc//,  are  still  visible  in  undiminished 
vivacity.  Here,  however,  Mr.  Doyle  proves  himself  something  more  than 
the  most  amusing  of  living  caricaturists.  His  farce  often  rises  to  the  level 
of  genuine  comedy.  The  very  characters  of  the  three  tourists  are  point- 
edly but  delicately  indicated  ;  and  scenes  and  incidents  of  travel  are 
introduced  into  their  adventures  showing  a  happy  perception  of,  and  a 


Short  Notices.  105 

rare  power  of  rendering,  not  merely  the  oddities  of  the  situation,  but 
the  genuine  spirit  of  the  wandering  Englishman  in  his  many  phases. 
The  Great  Briton — "as  he  stood  contemplating  the  Rhine-land,  won- 
dering if  it  would  be  possible  to  live  in  that  country,  and  considering 
(supposing  he  had  one  of  those  castles  now)  how  manj'^  thousands  a 
year  he  could  do  it  with  : — the  scenery  would  do ;  and  with  English  in- 
stitutions it  might  be  made  a  good  thing  of" — is  a  character  worthy  of 
Moliere.  A  page  or  two  further  on  we  have  a  charming  bit  of  genuine 
comedy  in  "  the  M.P.  travelling  in  search  of  '■  facts,'  giving  Brown  his 
views,  and  also  the  statistics  of  every  thing."  Then  there  is  "  the  English 
*  Milord'  upon  the  Rhine  :  how  happy  he  looks  !  he  dislikes  the  hum 
of  men,  and  sits  all  day  shut  up  in  his  carriage  reading  the  literature  of 
his  country,"  i.  e.  the  Times  and  the  Quarterly  Review. 

The  more  farcical  scenes  are  quite  as  good  in  their  way.  We  have 
laughed  over  them  till  our  sides  ached  again.  There  is  "  the  Right  of 
Search"  (flea-hunting  by  candlelight) ;  the  railway-station  at  Cologne, 
with  Jones's  portmanteau  undergoing  the  "  Ordeal  by  Touch  ;"  Brown 
hunted  and  devoured  by  mosquitoes  at  Venice  ;  the  same  gentleman, 
who  is  given  to  sketching,  captured  by  the  Austrians  for  taking  the  for- 
tifications, and  the  Austrian  detective  examining  the  camp-stool,  M'hich 
he  detains  as  a  mysterious-looking  and  possible  infernal  machine,  with 
scores  besides,  are  all  inimitable.  One  more,  indeed,  we  must  specify, — 
how  "  they  do  Cologne  Cathedral;"  staring,  guide-lDook  in  hand,  at  the 
windows  and  sculptures,  and  treading  upon  the  inoffensive  German  wo- 
men meekly  saying  their  prayers  around  them.  The  sketches  are  worked 
up  with  various  degrees  of  finish.  Some  are  almost  outlines,  though 
touched  with  skill ;  others  are  drawn  with  a  degree  of  care  which  has 
given  an  amount  of  expressiveness  to  the  countenances  of  a  higher  cast 
than  any  thing  which  Mr.  Doyle  has  before  done.  He  clearly  has  the 
happy  art  of  elaborating  his  sketches  without  loss  to  their  spirit  and 
brilliancy.  Altogetlier,  we  cannot  call  to  mind  anything  so  good  in  its 
way  since  the  days  of  Hogarth. 

A  new  edition  of  the  Poetical  Works  of  John  Dryden,  vol.  i.,  has  just 
appeared  in  the  annotated  edition  of  the  English  Poets,  edited  by  Ro- 
bert Bell  (J.  W.  Parker  and  Son);  and  we  have  to  thank  the  editor  not 
only  for  the  very  candid  and  impartial  way  in  which  he  has  treated  the 
subject  of  Dryden's  conversion  to  the  Catholic  faith,  but  also  for  the 
important  facts  which  his  diligent  researches  have  now  for  the  first  time 
brought  to  light  with  reference  to  that  event.  Mr.  Macaulay,  in  his 
veracious  History  of  England  (ii.  199),  had  said  that  the  poet,  "  find- 
ing that  if  he  continued  to  call  himself  a  Protestant,  his  services  would 
be  overlooked,  declared  himself  a  Papist.  The  king's  parsimony  in- 
stantly relaxed.  Dryden  was  gratified  with  a  pension  of  100/.  a  year, 
and  was  employed  to  defend  his  new  religion  both  in  prose  and  verse." 
And  further,  that  "  he  knew  little  and  cared  little  about  religion  ;"  that 
"his  knowledge  both  of  the  Church  which  he  quitted  and  of  the  Church 
which  he  entered,  was  of  the  most  superficial  kind;"  &c.  &c.  The 
falsehood  of  this  last  statement  as  to  Dryden's  religious  knowledge  la^y 
be  safely  left  to  the  dis])assionate  judgment  of  all  who  have  read  "The 
Hind  and  the  Panther ;"  and  the  verdict  of  this  same  self-constituted 
judge  as  to  Dryden's  caring  nothing  about  religion  will  certainly  not  be 
acquiesced  in  by  any  man  of  ordinary  candour  (to  say  nothing  of  Chris- 
tian charity),  who  has  read  ever  so  superficially  any  collection  of  the 
poet's  private  letters.  The  first  and  most  important  charge,  however,  it 
has  not  liitherto  been  so  easy  to  disprove.  There  has  always  been  room 
for  suspicion^in  consequence  of  a  supposed  connection  between  Dryden's 


196  Short  Notices. 

conversion  and  the  pension  from  King  James  II. ;  since,  as  Dr.  John- 
son so  truly  and  cautiously  says,  "  that  conversion  will  always  be  sus- 
pected that  apparently  concurs  with  interest."  Mr.  Bell,  however, 
has  now  discovered  the  original  of  the  exchequer  warrants  granting 
this  pension,  dated  May  6,  1684,  i.  e.  during  the  reign  of  Charles  II., 
and  nearly  three  years  before  Dryden  publicly  espoused  the  doctrines 
of  the  Catholic  Church.  One  is  not  surprised  that  Protestant  writers 
should  have  insisted  on  tracing  a  connection  between  the  pension  and 
the  conversion";  and  our  admiration  of  Mr.  Bell's  candour  is  pro- 
portionate, who  acknowledges  that  "  the  force  of  the  imputation  is  now 
very  sensibly  diminished,  if  not  proved  altogether  groundless."  After 
all,  however,  the  best  proof  of  the  sincerity  of  a  conversion  is  the  sub- 
sequent conduct  of  the  convert;  and  on  this  head,  as  Mr.  Bell  clearly 
shows,  the  testimony  of  Dryden's  life  is  most  unequivocal.  *" 

Life  in  Abyssinia;  being  Notes  collected  during  Three  Yeai's'  Pesi' 
dence  and  Travels  in  that  Country,  by  Mansfield  Parkyns,  2  vols.  8vo 
(London,  Murray),  is  a  most  amusing  book,  containing,  amid  the  au- 
thor's personal  adventures,  a  good  deal  of  information  concerning  a 
very  interesting  people.  The  author  is  a  "fast"  man,  fond  of  a  little 
slang,  with  great  powers  of  animal  enjoyment  and  endurance,  who  enters 
with  real  gusto  into  the  ways  of  uncivilised  life,  and  lives  as  a  fashion- 
able young  Abyssinian,  eating  raw  beef,  and  wearing  nothing  on  his 
head  but  a  pat  of  butter.  As  is  usual  with  men  of  this  complexion,  he 
is  tolerant  in  his  religion  ;  indeed  he  gives  nothing  but  praise  to  the 
Catholic  missionaries  in  those  parts,  and  nothing  but  blame  to  the  Pro- 
testants. He  says  nothing  new  on  the  corruptions  of  the  Christianity 
of  Abyssinia ;  but  those  who  at  present  know  nothing  whatever  about  this 
subject  will  find  his  book  a  very  pleasant  medium  of  gaining  some  know- 
ledge of  it. 

The  Private  Letters  of  Sir  James  Brooke,  K.C.B.,  Rajah  of  Sara- j 
leak,  narrating  the  Events  of  his  Life  from  1838  to  the  Present  TimCy 
edited  by  J.  C.  Templer,  Esq.,  3  vols.  "(London,  Bentley).  In  spite  ofj 
his  detractors.  Rajah  Brooke  is  a  great  man  ;  and  these  letters  exhibitj 
him  in  a  very  interesting  point  of  view.  They  record  his  impressions  of 
things  as  they  occurred  at  the  time  ;  written  not  for  the  public  eye,  but] 
for  his  mother  and  his  most  intimate  friends.  We  are  astonished  at  the] 
versatility  of  his  talents ;  he  has  a  passion  for  every  thing :  for  theology] 
(such  as  it  is),  for  geography,  botany,  zoology,  ethnography,  and  all 
branches  of  natural  science  ;  as  a  governor  and  lawgiver  he  has  always] 
shown  himself  at  least  equal  to  the  occasion  ;  and  he  threatens  to  cut  any] 
body's  throat  who  says  he  is  not  a  general.  We  happened  to  read  thesel 
volumes  after  those  of  Mr.  Parkyns  mentioned  in  the  last  paragra])h,| 
and  the  contrast  between  the  two  men  struck  us  much.  Mr.  Parkyns] 
went  out  to  an  uncivilised  state,  descended  to  their  barbarism,  and  left] 
them'much  as  he  found  them.  Brooke  went  out  to  a  nest  of  savages,] 
and  is  in  course  of  converting  it  into  a  centre  of  civilisation  for  tliej 
tribes  of  Borneo.  We  have  been  highly  interested  in  these  volumes,] 
and  are  quite  disposed  to  side  with  the  Rajah  in  his  dispute  with  the 
humanitarians,  both  as  to  facts  and  principles. 

Linny  Lnchivood,  by  Catherine  Crowe,  2  vols.  (Routledge).  The 
strong-minded  authoress,  Mrs.  Crowe,  is  still  a  bird  of  ill-omen,  black 
and  croaking,  haunting  "  the  night-side  of  nature."  The  story  is  power- 
ful and  well-told,  but  is  throughout  redolent  of  villany,  dcbaucherj'-,  re-] 
morse,  and  the  charnel-house.  The  purpose  of  the  tale  (if  it  has  one)! 
seems  to  be,  as  Dr.  Pye  Smith  might  have  said,  to  furnish  a  construe-] 
live  argument  in  favour  of  facilitating  divorce. 


Short  Notices.  197 

Memoirs,  Journal,  and  Correspondence  of  Thomas  Moore,  edited  by- 
Lord  John  Russell,  vol.  vi.  (London,  Longmans;  to  be  completed  in 
eight  volumes).  This  ill-edited  book  still  drags  its  slow  length  along, 
recording  the  dinners  eaten,  and  the  jokes  heard  or  uttered  by  one  of 
the  very  smallest  men  who  ever  occupied  such  a  space  in  talking  of 
himself.  No  man  is  a  better  illustration  of  the  chasm  that  exists  be- 
tween literature  and  life,  and  of  the  fact  that  the  literary  whale  may  be 
a  moral  monkey.  The  present  volume  contains  the  Journal  during  the 
time  when  he  was  writing  his  IVavels  of  an  Irish  Gentleman  in  search 
of  a  Religion;  and  it  appears  that  while  that  book  was  on  the  stocks,  its 
author  attended  indifferently  (seldom  enougli,  however)  the  Catholic 
chapel  and  the  Protestant  church  ;  was  deliberately  bringing  up  his 
children  igi  the  religion  which  he  was  proving  to  be  false ;  and  firmly 
intended  to  fight  a  duel  whenever  his  honour  required  it.  On  one  oc- 
casion the  music  at  Warwick-Street  Chapel  drew  tears  from  his  eyes : 
"  What,"  he  exclaims,  "  will  not  music  make  one  feel  and  believe  ?"  We 
ire  sadly  afraid  that  his  Catholicity  was  no  more  than  a  matter  of  music 
and  poetry ;  and,  as  far  as  appears  from  the  private  journal  of  the  author, 
X  would  not  be  unjust  to  say  that  his  Travels  were  written  with  as  pure 
in  intention  of  gratifying  his  own  vanity,  as  his  Little's  Poems  or  his 
Lalla  Itookh.  The  sardonic  editor  was  doubtless  glad  of  this  opportu- 
lity  of  letting  us  know  the  true  value  of  Thomas  Moore's  advocacy  of 
)ur  holy  religion. 

Mr.  Bohn's  Illustrated  Library  opens  the  new  year  with  a  very 
L)retty  and  appropriate  volume,  a  Pictorial  Calendar  of  the  Seasons 
^price  bs.)  edited  by  that  popular  writer,  Mary  Howitt.  The  plan  of 
:he  work  is  to  preface  the  account  of  each  month  with  a  prettily-illus- 
trated almanac,  in  which  notabilia  of  various  kinds  are  recorded  in  the 
jsual  heterogeneous  fashion  for  the  benefit  of  the  rising  generation. 
Then  follows  all  that  is  to  be  found  about  each  month  in  Aikin's  well- 
tcnown  Calendar  of  Nature,  which  is  afterwards  enlarged  upon  and 
copiously  illustrated  by  descriptions  taken  from  all  our  best  writers, 
30th  in  prose  and  verse,  of  the  various  phenomena  of  country  life  during 
?aeh  season.  This,  indeed,  is  the  essential  part  of  the  book,  and  most 
charming  it  is.  We  could  have  wished  that  Mrs.  Howitt  had  confined 
tierself  to  it,  and  omitted  altogether  the  antiquarian  notices  taken  from 
^oane,  with  which  the  account  of  each  month  is  concluded.  These  are 
very  imperfect  in  themselves,  and  somewhat  out  of  harmony  with 
the  delightful  truth  and  freshness  of  the  other  portions  of  the  volume. 
We  must  not  omit  to  mention  the  illustration?,  which  are  numerous  and 
pod,  chiefly  taken  from  the  familiar  scenes  of  country  life.  Altogether 
iit  is  a  cheap  volume  of  very  pleasant  reading. 

How  many  "  libraries"  Mr.  Bohn  intends  to  bring  out  we  are 
puzzled  to  imagine.  It  is  clear  that  his  various  series  must  pay,  or  he 
would  not  continue  them  and  add  to  their  number.  His  newest  addi- 
tion is  the  first  volume  oi'  Bohn's  British  Classics,  containing  Addison's 
Works,  with  Kurd's  notes,  and  with  portrait  and  illustrations;  to  be 
completed  in  four  volumes.  The  type  is  excellent,  and  an  improvement 
on  that  of  .some  of  his  other  series;  the  paper  very  fair,  the  illustrations 
good,  and  the  binding  as  usual,  i.  e.  good  also. 

Passages  from  the  Diary  of  a  late  Physician,  by  Samuel  Warren. 
(Blackwood  and  Son.)  This  is  a  new  edition  of  those  well-known  papers 
which  first  appeared  in  Blackwood  more  than  a  quarter  of  a  century  ago, 
and  since  that  time  have  been  extensively  read  both  in  Europe  and 
America.    The  author  is  naturally  much  gratified  at  a  new  edition  being 

VOL.  I. NEW  SERIES.  P 


198  Short  Notices, 

now  called  for,  a  circumstance  at  which  we  ourselves  are  a  little" sur- 
prised ;  for  the  public  taste  of  the  present  day  is  certainly  much  more 
subdued  and  chastened  than  that  of  five-and-twenty  years  ajro:  so  that, 
riveting  as  were  these  narratives  when  we  first  read  them  in  Blackwood, 
and  often  as  we  have  read  them  with  intense  interest  since,  we  observe 
that  those  who  now  read  them  for  the  first  time  are  generally  disap- 
pointed in  them,  as  being  overstrained  and  melodramatic.  Genius,  how- 
ever, has  an  enduring  lite,  independent,  in  the  long-run,  of  the  changes 
of  popular  taste  ;  and  that  these  thrilling  scenes  are  sketched  by  genius 
of  no  common  order  all  must  at  once  acknowledge. 

A  popular  Account  of  the  ancient  Egyptians,  by  Sir  J.  Gardner  Wil- 
kinson, 2  vols.  500  woodcuts  (London,  Murray),  is  an  invaluable  book 
for  those  who  wish  to  have  an  insight  into  the  private  life  of  the  ancient 
Egyptians,  and  to  comprehend  all  those  knicknacks  of  4000  years  ago 
which  are  preserved  in  our  museums.     Here  the  curious  reader  may 
find  out  all  about  the  Egyptian  houses,  furniture,  food,  trades,  amuse- 
ments, art,  and  mode  of  embalming.     There  is  very  little  account 
their  history  or  religious  opinions,  which  the  author  thinks  would  n 
interest  the  class  for  whom  the  book  is  intended.      It  is,  in  fact,  ; 
abridgement  of  his  great  work  in  five  volumes,  with  corrections  derivi 
from  fresh  discoveries. 

Once  upon  a  Time^  by  Charles  Knight,  3  vols.  (London,  Murray) 
is  a  work  intended  to  do  the  same  for  the  manners  and  customs  of  ou 
forefathers  as  the  last  book  does  for  those  of  the  Egyptians ;  it  instruct 
us  how  John  Bull  in  past  ages  wore  his  gown,  kindled  his  fires,  roaste« 
his  joints,  and  so  on.  It  is  written  in  the  form  of  tales ;  the  utilitarianism 
however,  somewhat  outweighing  the  imagination,  and  spoiling  th 
amusement.  Nevertheless,  to  those  who  like  this  kind  of  mixture  ( 
the  utile  (?)  and  the  dulce,  the  volumes  are  commendable  for  holi( 
reading. 

The  Ottoman  Empire  and  its  Resources,  with  an  historical  sketc^ 
events  during  the  last  twenty  years,  by  K.  H.  Michelson,  Phil.  D.  (T 
don,  Simpkin  and  Marshall),  is  the  best  book  we  know  of  for  such  per 
as  desire  to  understand  the  resources  of  one  of  the  parties  in  the  prea 
conflict.     It  consists  of  133  pages  of-com pressed  narrative,  followedj 
160  pages  of  statistics  ;  dry,  but  brief  and  authoritative. 

Norway  and  its  Glaciers  visited  in  1851,  followed  by  journals 
excursions  in  the  high  Alps  of  Dauphine,  Berne,  and  Savov,  bv  " 
fessor  J.  D.  Forbes,  D.C.L.,  F.R.S.,  &c.  (Edinburgh,  A.  and  C.  Bla( 
Dr.  Forbes  is  a  great  authority  on  the  influence  of  glacial  action! 
geological  phenomena  in  the  transportation  of  boulders,  the  formal 
of  moraines  and  terraces,  &c.  Those  who  take  an  interest  in  this  qi 
tion,  may  consult  this  work  with  advantage.  As  a  narrative  of  trav< 
it  is  somewhat  dry  and  tedious,  as  such  books  by  learned  profess( 
usually  are.  It  is  very  expensively  got  up,  and  would  have  been  just 
valuable  if  compressed  into  half  the  size. 

Pine  Forests  and  Hackmatack  Clearings;  or,  Travel,  life  and  adv« 
ture  in  the  British  North  American  Colonies,  by  Lieut.-Col.  Sleigh,  CJ 
(L(mdon,  IBentley.)  Readers  may  well  wonder  how  the  two  meml 
of  this  title  can  be  convertible.  The  secret  is  as  follows  :  where  Qu( 
and  other  Canadian  towns  now  stand,  were  once  pine  and  larch  (ht 
matack)  forests,  now  cleared  away  to  make  room  for  men;  hence j 
gallant  author  thinks  himself  at  liberty  to  record  his  experienceM 
Quebec  hotels  under  the  name  of  adventures  in  the  forest.    The  ti 


4 


Short  Notices.  199 

is  a  mere  pufF,  under  false  pretences,  of  an  ordinary  and  rather  stupid 
book  of  travels. 

Revelations  of  School  Life,  by  Cantab.,  2  vols.  (London,  Hope  &Co.) 
We  remember  a  learned  F.S.A.,  M.R.S.L.,  &c.  &c.  telling  us  tiiat  the 
Protestant  translation  of  the  Bible  was  evidently  written  by  illiterate 
blocklieads,  who  did  not  know  that  it  was  against  the  rules  of  writing 
to  italicise  the  weak  words  of  a  sentence ;  its  ifs,  and  ands,  and  sos,  and 
the  rest.  This  criticism  is  fairly  applicable  to  Cantab,  who  seems  as 
ig:norant  of  the  meaning  of  the  variations  of  type,  as  he  is  extravagant 
in  the  abundance  of  his  use  of  them.  The  matter  of  the  book  is  an 
attempt  to  expose  the  abuses  of  usher  and  schoolboy  life,  in  a  fiction 
which  we  have  found  tiresome  and  dull  to  the  last  degree. 

The  Story  of  Corfe  Castle,  and  of  many  who  lived  there,  by  the 
Right  Hon.  G.  Bankes,  M.P.  (Murray.)  A  local  memorial,  written  at 
the  request  of  a  local  Society  for  Mutual  Improvement,  by  a  man  who  is 
the  representative  of  the  chief  glory  of  the  place,  the  Lady  Bankes  who 
on  two  separate  occasions  so  gallantly  defended  the  castle  against  the 
parliamentary  party  in  the  civil  wars.  The  literary  execution  is  good, 
»nd  the  matter  interesting. 

The  Marvels  of  Science,  and  their  Testimony  to  Holy  Writ,  by 
S.  W.  Fullom,  Esq.  (Hurst  and  Blackett),  is  a  slight  catalogue  of  the 
chief  wonders  of  the  universe,  with  an  explanation  of  the  Mosaic  cos- 
mogony after  the  theory  of  Dr.  Pye  Smith  ;  and  with  very  many 
passages,  which  are  probably  considered  very  fine  writing,  about  woman 
and  other  subjects  w^hich  address  themselves  ,to  feminine  susceptibility. 

Stray  Leaves  in  Shady  Places,  by  Mrs.  Newton  Crossland  (Rout- 
ledge  &  Co.),  appear  to  us  to  have  been  culled  from  the  many-coloured 
Annuals  which  blossom  about  Christmas.  Whether  this  be  really  the 
case  or  not,  we  are  not  sufficiently  acquainted  with  the  publications  in 
question  to  know  ;  but  the  stories  are  certainly  of  the  same  character, 
and  about  the  same  degree  of  literary  merit,  as  the  average  run  of 
those  which  appear  in  the  Book  of  Beauty,  and  its  silken-bound  and 
gilt-edged  rivals ;  that  is  to  say,  they  are  lively  and  interesting,  and 
written  in  a  clever,  pointed  style;  but  their  incidents  are  far-fetched 
and  melo-dramatic,  and  tlie  characters  and  conversations  sometimes 
over-coloured.  The  shorter  stories  at  the  end  are  by  far  the  best  in  the 
volume. 

Those  w'ho  are  familiar  with  that  beautiful  little  tale  "The  Snow- 
drop," will  scarcely  need  any  recommendation  of  ours  to  induce  them 
to  read  another  by  the  same  authoress.  The  very  title  of  Blind  Agnese, 
or  the  Little  Spouse  of  the  Blessed  Sacrament,  by  Cecilia  Caddell  (Dub- 
lin, J.  Duffy),  tells  its  own  tale,  which  the  volume  itself  does  not  belie. 
It  is  a  story  breathing  a  spirit  of  the  most  fervent  devotion  towards  the 
Blessed  Sacrament,  and  calculated  to  inspire  its  readers  with  the  same. 
We  scarcely  think  the  story  so  happy  perhaps  in  its  scene  and  incidents 
as  the  Snowdrop  (to  which,  in  spirit,  it  bears  the  closest  resemblance) ;  and 
we  seem  to  want  some  little  advertisement  or  preface,  or  at  least  some 
chronological  hint  in  the  opening  of  the  tale  itself,  to  warn  us  that  the 
action  belongs  to  bygone  days,  not  the  present.  As  it  is,  this  only 
breaks  on  the  reader  by  degrees,  and  after  his  sense  of  historical  truth- 
fulness has  been  somewhat  wounded.  On  the  whole,  however,  we  must 
give  a  cordial  welcome  to  this  addition  to  our  lending-libraries,  prizes 
for  presents  for  school-children,  &c. :  we  only  wish  we  had  more  such. 


200  Short  Notices. 

Wimfride  Jones,  or  the  very  Ignorant  Girl  (Clifton  Tales  and  Nar- 
ratives, No.  V.  Burns  and  Lambert),  is  an  extremely  interesting  littl- 
book,  of  wljicli  the  leading  idea  is  to  show  how  the  true  essence  of  re 
ligion  lies  in  personal  love  of  Jesus,  and,  as  a  natural  accompaniment, 
a  love  of  Mary  also  ;  in  fact,  Jesus  and  Mary  might  also  have  been  its 
second  title.  The  various  characters  in  the  book  are  beautifully  drawn, 
and  by  a  delicate,  discriminating  hand.  Beginning  at  the  lowest  end  of 
the  scale,  we  have  among  the  Catholic  characters,  and  omitting  the  Pro- 
testant paterfamilias, — who  is  the  quintessence  of  respect  ability,  and 
whose  religion  (so  to  call  it)  is  that  of  respectability, — one  who  only 
■wants  to  avoid  hell;  another,  who  wishes  to  keep  clear  of  sin  ;  a  third, 
■who  -wishes  to  do  her  duty  and  clear  her  conscience ;  a  fourth,  who 
desires  to  be  holy  and  to  love  God,  and  to  feel  that  she  loves  Him  ;  and 
then  lastly,  in  contradistinction  to  all,  or  rather  as  summing  all  up  in 
the  simplicity  of  one  idea,  is  Winifride  Jones,  the  heroine,  who^^e  sing]- 
wish  is  to  ;?/e««e  Jesus,  and  to  be  like  Mary,  because  she  knows  tha 
will  please  Him.  The  author  has  done  well  to  exemplify  the  principle 
which  it  is  desired  to  inculcate,  in  a  person  who  owes  nothing  to  mental 
culture,  'and  has  had  but  a  small  amount  even  of  religious  instruction. 

Among  the  caterers  for  the  innocent  literary  entertainment  of  young 
people,  Routledge  and  Co.  of  Farringdon  Street,  hold  a  deservedly  high 
place;  and  among  their  recent  publications  we  can  specially  recommend 
The  Romance  of  Adventure,  or  true  Tales  of  Enterprise  for  the  In- 
struction and  Amusement  of  the  Young,  and  Voyage  and  Venture,  or 
Perils  by  Sea  and  Land.  The  author  of  the  first  of  these  volumes  tells 
us  that  ''  it  has  been  his  care  not  merely  to  use  such  materials  as  were 
true  in  point  of  fact,  but  rigidly  to  exclude  whatever  might  prove  in- 
jurious in  its  influence  on  the  character  of  the  young ;"  and  the  same 
may  truly  be  said  of  both  volumes. 

The  "old  original"  tale  of  Robinson  Crusoe  has  had  many  ii 
tators ;  and  among  the  "  domestic"  Robinson  Crusoes,  or  histories 
families,  not  individuals,  we  know  of  none  at  all  equal  to  Capt.  Ms 
ryat's  Children  of  the  New  Forest  (London,  Routledge  and  Co.) 
is  a  tale  of  the  days  of  Cromwell  and  the  restoration  of  King  Charlc 
and  its  young  heroes  and  heroines  are  leading  a  life  of  solitude,  not ' 
cause  they  have  been  wrecked  on  the  shores  of  some  desert  island, 
by  reason  of  certain  social  and  political  causes  necessitating  their 
cealment.  In  addition,  therefore,  to  the  ordinary  point  of  interest 
such  narratives,  viz.  the  watching  the  inventive  genius  or  the  singular 
lucky  chances  which  never  fail  to  attend  such  heroes  of  fiction,  Capt 
Marryat  has  secured  another  fruitful  source  of  adventure  in  the  dan^ 
to  which  these  children  of  the  New  Forest  are  exposed ;  first,  from  d| 
covery,  or  rather  recognition  by  their  enemies,  then  from  robbers,  &( 
and  he  has  known  how  to  make  the  most  of  this  advantage.  Thi^ 
has  already  reached  a  fourth  edition,  and  will  certainly  remain  n 
popular  favourite.  We  do  not  like  so  well  The  Little  Savage,  h\ 
same  author.  We  see  no  advantage  to  be  derived  from  familiarising  tin 
young  mind  with  the  idea  of  such  a  little  monster  as  Master  Frank 
Henneker  is  at  the  commencement  of  the  tale.  Moreover,  his  conver- 
sion by  a  "  missionary's  wife,"  thrown  on  the  same  island,  entails  upon 
us  a  great  deal  of  "  preaching,"  of  a  very  peculiar  and  to  us  unpleasant 
kind.  All  these  volumes  of  Messrs.  Routledge  and  Co.  are  very  prcttil) 
got  up,  and  illustrated  with  numerous  woodcuts  by  popular  artists. 

Boys  at  Home,  by  C.  Adams  (Routledge  and  Co.),  is  a  story  rati 
in  the  Miss-Edgeworth  style ;  inasmuch  as  its  little  heroes  have  an 


Short  Notices.  201 

tonlshing  aptitude  for  thatching,  bricklaying,  and  other  mechanical  arts  ; 
their  success  in  which  will  perhaps,  as  was  often  the  case  with  Miss 
Edgeworth's  stories,  excite  an  unavailing  emulation  ;  these  things  being 
in  fact  less  easy,  we  fear,  than  here  represented.  The  story  before  us  is 
not  written  in  the  piquant  way  which  made  "  little  Frank"  and  "Rosa- 
mond" so  delightful  even  to  those  who  least  sympathised  with  Miss 
Edgeworth's  turn  of  thought ;  but  the  moral  of  the  book  is  far  better, 
inasmuch  as  these  little  heroes  and  heroines  say  their  prayers,  which  we 
do  not  remember  was  the  case  with  '^  Frank"  and  "  Rosamond." 

The  very  clever  little  story  of  The  Conceited  Pig  (London,  J.  and 
C.  Mozley)  has  found  a  worthy  illustrator  in  Harrison  Weir;  and  is 
now  printed,  therefore,  in  good  large  type,  suitable  for  the  many  little 
people  who  will  be  delighted  with  it. 

The  Memorials  of  the  Castle  of  Edinburgh,  by  James  Grant  (Black- 
wood), redeem  the  promise  of  their  title,  in  an  agreeable  and  unpre- 
tending way.  The  history  of  the  Castle  of  Edinburgh  is  the  history  of 
the  Scottish  wars.  Once  deemed  impregnable,  and  commanding  the 
capital  of  the  kingdom,  together  with  a  wide  and  fertile  tract  of  country, 
this  ancient  fortress  was  a  position  which  conflicting  armies  keenly  dis- 
puted ;  hence  its  Memorials  exhibit  a  series  of  highly  interesting  military 
adventures,  in  which  some  of  the  principal  persons  in  Scottish  history- 
performed  an  important  part.  To  a  Catholic  reader,  the  chief  feature 
of  interest  about  the  Castle  of  Edinburgh  is  associated  with  St.  Mar- 
garet ;  for  its  lofty  eminence  was  the  scene  of  her  holy  departure  from 
a  sorrowful  world  ;  and  the  little  chapel  where  she  probably  heard  Mass 
the  last  day  of  her  life  stands  within  its  ramparts.  Mr.  Grant,  though 
not  Catholic,  is  free  from  prejudice  ;  his  mention  of  Catholic  subjects  is 
always  respectful,  and  evinces  little  sympathy  with  John  Knox  and  the 
Covenanters.  He  is  a  loyal  Jacobite,  and  seems  to  lament  the  union  of 
Scotland  with  England  ;  subjects  on  which,  of  course,  we  are  not  bound 
to  agree  with  liim,  but  which  he  touches  with  delicacy  and  a  tender 
regret  which  even  dissentient  criticism  must  respect. 

The  Dublin  Review,  No.  LXX.  (Richardson  and  Son),  contains  one 
or  two  admirable  articles,  but  is  somewhat  monotonous  in  its  general 
character  as  a  whole.  The  first  article,  on  the  "  Philosophy  of  the  Rule 
of  Faith,"  is  ably  argued  and  gracefully  written ;  that  on  the  devo- 
tional and  theological  bearings  of  Religious  Ceremonial  also,  is  well 
worthy  of  the  closest  attention.  Dr.  Ddllinger's  work  on  the  newly- 
discovered  Philophosumena  of  Hippolytus  forms  the  subject  of  another 
able  article.  Wycliff'e,  Modern  Deism,  the  Emigrant  Milesian,  and 
Merimee's  Demetrius  the  Impostor,  make  up  the  Number. 

Among  the  cheap  periodical  literature  of  the  day,  besides  the  Lamp 
(London,  Dolman),  and  Duffy's  Fireside  Magazine — which  last  by  the 
by  has  some  charming  specimens  of  translation  (?)  from  the  French, 
such  as  "  my  liberatrice  hurried  me  away  ;"  "  I  carry  the  Eternal  Puis- 
sance of  heaven  and  earth,"  meaning  the  Blessed  Sacrament ;  "the  sin- 
ners found  a  refrigeration  of  their  evils,"  &c., — there  is  a  new  weekly 
candidate  for  public  favour  "  the  Family  Mirror,''  conducted  by  Eliza- 
beth M.  Stuart  (price  2c?.).  It  is  full  of  stories,  both  in  prose  and  verse, 
of  that  degree  of  literary  merit  which  is  usual  in  such  publications,  but 
wholly  unobjectionable  in  its  tone  and  principles  ;  which  certainly  is  not 
usual.  Another,  the  Illustrated  London  Magazine  (monthly),  edited 
by  R.  Brinsley  Knowles  (Piper,  Stephenson,  and  Spence),  has  com- 
pleted its  first  volume.  The  opening  story  is  good,  and  there  are  some 
lively  papers  called  "  Sketches  in  Norway.'^  Altogether  the  publication 
is  not  wanting  in  talent,  and  is  unobjectionable  in  matter. 


202  Short  Notices. 

Illustrations  of  Scripture  from  Botanical  Science,  by  David  Gorrie, 
(Edinburgh,  Blackwood),  is  a  very  pretty  little  book,  from  which  a 
good  deal  of  knowledge  of  botany  may  be  gleaned,  but  quite  mistaken 
in  its  general  principles.  Scripture  generally  uses  the  language  of  sense, 
not  that  of  science  ;  it  appeals  to  the  general  knowledge  of  men,  not  to 
the  refinements  of  philosophers.  To  illustrate  its  imagery  by  the  lan- 
guage of  science  is  quite  impossible.  No  one  will  be  better  able  to 
understand  such  a  phrase  as  **  rooted  in  faith"  after  learning  that 
botanists  consider  the  root  to  be  the  descending  axis  of  a  plant,  and 
that  it  is  furnished  with  organs  called  spongioles,  which  absorb  dissolved 
saline  matters  from  the  ground.  Such  a  knowledge  is  not  necessary 
(as  Mr.  Gorrie  maintains)  for  the  interpretation  of  the  imagery  of 
Scripture,  any  more  than  a  knowledge  of  brass-founding  is  necessary 
for  the  composer  of  music  for  the  trumpet  or  horn.  Indeed,  we  have 
not  nmch  patience  with  that  supei-ficial  Bibliolatry  which  leads  men  to 
think  the  zoology,  or  botany,  or  geography  of  Scripture  to  be  sacred 
studies,  or  parts  of  theology.  These  sciences  are  very  pleasant  and 
useful  in  themselves ;  but  why  they  should  be  limited  to  the  things 
referred  to  in  the  Bible,  or  tacked  on  to  it  as  if  they  were  parts  of  sacral 
hermeneutics,  we  never  yet  could  discover.  We  do  not  find  fault  with 
the  book  on  any  other  ground  ;  apart  from  the  faults  of  its  class,  it  is 
very  well. 

The  Chemistry  of  Common  Life,  by  James  F.  W.  Johnston,  M.A. 
Part  I.  The  air  we  breathe  ;  the  water  we  drink.  (Edinburgh,  Black- 
wood), is  a  useful  little  description  of  the  chemical  ingredients  of  the 
atmosphere,  and  of  rain,  river,  spring,  and  sea  waters.  The  author 
traces  the  adaptations  of  the  atmosphere  and  the  waters  to  the  life  of 
animals  and  vegetables,  in  a  way  that  shows  he  has  not  the  fear  of 
Bacon  before  his  eyes.  However,  in  spite  of  Bacon,  Harvey  discovered 
the  circulation  of  the  blood,  and  Cuvier  principles  of  the  restoration  of 
skeletons  from  a  few  fragments,  from  a  consideration  of  final  causes. 
So  the  present  author  seems  inclined  to  make  the  requirements  of 
animals  and  vegetables  the  test  of  the  natural  composition  of  the  atmo- 
sphere, as  if  it  had  been  formed  with  especial  reference  to  their  wants. 
We  perfectly  sympathise  with  this  mode  of  arguing.  We  wish  that  the 
author  had  enlarged  his  plan,  and  given  a  sketch  of  the  causes  of  the 
meteorological  changes  of  the  atmosphere,  and  of  the  currents  of  the 
ocean;  which,  though  no  parts  of  the  chemistry  of  nature,  are  jet  the 
manipulations  of  her  laboratory. 

Popular  British  Ornithology,  by  P.  H.  Gosse ;  second  edition,  20 
plates,  coloured,  10s.  Qd.  (London,  Lovell  Reeve),  is  a  very  nice  book 
to  give  to  young  persons  who  are  interested  in  natural  history.  The 
drawings  are  spirited  and  good.  In  the  descriptions  we  have  found 
none  of  that  mawkish  religionism  which  is  continually  dragging  in 
quotations  from  the  Psalms  whenever  the  wonder  is  excited,  or  of  that 
bitter  spirit  of  Protestantism  which  characterises  the  "  Naturalist's  Ram- 
bles on  the  Devonshire  Coast,"  by  the  same  author. 

We  are  glad  to  augur,  from  the  appearance  of  five  simultaneous  parts 
of  Mass  music  in  Tfie  Choir  (Burns  and  Lambert),  that  this  useful  publi- 
cation is  commanding  the  good  sale  wliich  it  deserves.  These  parts  are, 
on  the  whole,  fully  equal  to  their  predecessoi-s,  though  all  the  portions 
of  the  Masses  they  contain  are  not  of  equal  merit.  The  Glorias  are,  as 
usual,  the  least  satisfactory.  Not  one  Gloria  out  of  a  dozen,  even  by 
the  greatest  writers,  preserves  that  variety  in  unity  of  idea  and  expres- 
sion which  is  essential  to  the  perfect  musical  utterance  of  this  sublime 
hymn.     Take,  for  instance,  the  "Gloria"  by  Danzi,  in  Part  IV.     As  a 


Short  Notices,  ^03 

clever  exercise  of  passages  and  modulations,  it  is  well  enough ;  but  as 
a  whole,  it  is  a  series  of  fragments,  with  a  respectable  fugue  at  the  end. 
The  "  Kyrie,"  by  the  same  author,  on  the  other  hand,  is  melodious  in 
phrase,  and  musician-like  in  treatment,  with  less  of  that  tendency  to 
unmeaning  and  incessant  modulation  which  is  the  bane  of  the  present 
German  t^chool,  and  from  which  not  one  of  the  Masses  before  us  is 
wholly  free.  Schubert's  ''Credo,"  which  follows  Danzi's  "Gloria," 
is  a  mediocre  affair,  and  not  worthy  of  a  place  in  The  Choir.  Of  the 
entire  list  of  j)ieces  now  before  us,  we  think  the  best  are  the  *'  Credo," 
"  Sanctus,"  "  Benedictus,"  and  "  Agnus  Dei,"  of  Drobisch,  which  are 
excellent ;  and  the  "  Mass"  by  Sechter,  a  very  pleasing  and  acceptable 
composition.  Much  of  the  "  Mass"  by  Schneider  is  also  well  worth  the 
attention  of  every  choir.  Klein's  "Mass"  is  unequal:  the  "  Kyrie" 
lacks  melody  and  breadth ;  the  "  Gloria"  is  one  of  the  best  in  the  col- 
lection ;  the  "  Credo"  is  laboured ;  the  remainder  has  more  meaning 
and  character,  and  that  of  a  pleasing  and  expressive  kind.  A  conside- 
rable portion  of  the  whole  are  arranged  by  Mr.  Richardson  of  Liver- 
jiool,  with  his  accustomed  skill;  and  the  hints  which  he  has  given  lor 
the  use  of  the  organ-stops  will  be  welcome  to  many  players.  His  own 
"  Vidi  aquam,"  which  appears  in  Part  IV..  is  a  capital  little  composi- 
tion, and  totally  free  from  the  vice  of  excessive  modulation. 


FOREIGN  LITERATURE. 


F.  X.  Patritii,  S.  J.,  Doctoris  Vecurialis  Coll.  Bom.  Sfc,  De  Evan- 
gellis  libri  ires.  Friburgi  Brisgovise  ;  Libraria  Herderiana.  These  two 
bulky  quartos,  containing  about  600  pages  a-piece,  are  worthy  of  the 
ancient  literary  fame  of  the  Society  of  Jesus ;  but  it  tells  a  sad  tale  as 
to  the  present  condition  of  the  Eternal  City,  that  a  professor  in  the  Ro- 
man college  should  be  obliged  to  seek  a  publisher  for  such  a  work  in 
a  foreign  land.  The  learned  author  needs  no  introduction  to  any  eccle- 
siastical student,  but  the  volumes  before  us  are  of  a  far  higher  class  than 
those  by  which  he  has  been  hitherto  known  ;  and  although  they  will 
not,  of  course,  be  so  widely  read  as  his  work  De  Interpretatione  Scrlp' 
turarum  Sacrarum^  yet  the  study  of  them  must  henceforward  be  con- 
sidered e-sential  for  all  those  who  wish  really  to  make  themselves 
masters  of  the  important  subject  of  which  they  treat.  The  whole  work 
is  divided  into  three  books.  The  first  is  introductory,  and  discusses 
several  most  interesting  historical  and  chronological  questions  concern- 
ing the  four  Gospels;  as,  for  instance,  by  whom  they  were  written, 
when,  and  in  what  language,  &c.  &c.;  questions  which  are  solved,  not 
by  any  display  of  originality  in  the  invention  of  some  new  and  startling 
hypothesis,  but  by  the  most  solid  learning,  following  the  universal  tra- 
ditions of  the  Church,  and  receiving  with  the  utmost  respect  the  dicta 
of  the  early  Fathers.  Having  thus  disposed  of  all  introductory  matter, 
our  author  proceeds  in  the  second  book  to  arrange  in  parallel  columns, 
and  with  most  admirable  clearness,  his  harmony  of  the  Gospels,  that 
is,  his  idea  of  the  order  in  which  the  events  of  the  Gospel  narrative 
severally  occurred  ;  placing  before  the  reader,  at  a  mere  glance,  every 
variation  of  detail  that  can  be  detected  in  the  four  narratives,  and  justi- 
fying by  sufficient  notes  his  own  method  of  harmonising  them  whenever 
he  sees  occasion  to  differ  from  that  which  is  most  generally  followed. 


S04  Short  Notices, 

Then  the  third  and  last  book,  occupying  the  whole  of  the  second  volume, 
is  entirely  exegetic,  and,  besides  a  complete  exposition  of  the  Gos])el 
history  from  the  beginning  to  the  end,  contains  upwards  of  fifty  valuable 
dissertations  on  questions  of  chronology,  geography,  profane  history, 
philology,  &c,  &c.  It  is  impossible  in  a  short  notice  to  enter  on  any 
detailed  examination  of  a  work  of  this  kind  ;  the  mere  enumeration  of 
its  contents,  however,  will  be  interesting  to  many  of  our  readers. 

A  volume  entitled  Les  Matinees  de  le  Graviere,  being  an  "  Exposi- 
tion de  la  Doctrine  Catholique  a  I'usage  des  jeunes  personnes,"  by  M. 
Alphonse  de  Milly,  has  been  published  by  MM.  Perisse.  A  former 
work  by  this  author,  entitled  '*  Reveu  analytique  et  critique  des  Romains 
Contemporains,"  received  the  very  high  honour  of  a  letter  of  approba-  « 
tion  from  our  Holy  Father  himself;  a  letter  full  of  paternal  affection,  * 
and  offering  itself  as  a  kind  of  guarantee  for  the  merit  of  future  publi- 
cations by  the  same  hand.  The  volume  before  us  has  received  the  sanc- 
tion of  the  Bishops  of  Bayeux  and  Autun,  expressed  in  the  warmest 
terms;  it  is  much  approved,  also,  by  the  superior  of  one  of  the  most 
distinguished  communities  of  religious  women  in  France.  It  is  written 
in  an  easy  and  familiar  style  for  the  benefit  of  young  people,  for  whom 
it  is  intended  ;  being,  in  fact,  dedicated  to  the  author's  own  daughters. 
Those  engaged  in  the  work  of  teaching  the  young  may  find  many  useful 
hints  in  these  pages. 

M.  L'Abbe  Eymat,  Priest  of  the  diocese  of  Bourdeaux,  has  just« 
published  the  first  volume  of  a  work  entitled  Evangile  medite  et  ex-  * 
plique  chaquejour  de  Vannee  d^apres  les  ecrits  des  Peres  de  VEglise  et  des 
auteurs  ascetiques  les  plus  recommandahles  (Paris,  Perisse),  dedicated  to 
his  Eminence  the  Cardinal  Archbishop  of  Bourdeaux,  and  approved  by 
the  Bishop  of  Beauvais.  It  contains  meditations  for  the  Gospels  of  the 
Sundays  of  Advent,  Christmas,  and  Epiphany.  The  plan  of  the  work 
is,  that  the  gospel  of  the  Sunday  shall  provide  the  material  for  each  day 
of  the  week;  and  the  meditation  is  followed  by  an  "application,"  ex- 
tracted from  the  writings  of  one  of  the  Fathers  or  of  some  well-reputed 
ascetic  author,  such  as  F.  d'Avila,  Father  Stapleton,  Thomas  a  Kempis, 
&c.  Moreover,  care  is  taken  to  give,  not  merely  the  very  words  of  the 
writer,  but  the  place  in  his  works  where  the  passage  may  be  found.  A 
prayer,  summary,  and  resolution,  terminate  each  meditation,  according 
to  the  approved  form  of  such  works. 

Vie  de  Sainte  Colette,  Reformatice  des  trois  Ordres  de  Sainte  Fran- 
gois,  en  particulier  des  pauvres  Filles  de  Sainte  Claire,  par  le  R.  P.  Sel- 
lier,  de  la  Compagnie  de  Jesus  (Paris,  Perisse  ;  ])rice  3  francs),  will  be 
an  acceptable  volume  to  those  of  our  readers  who  take  an  interest  in  the 
community  of  Poor  Clares  lately  established  in  our  own  country. 

An  association  of  booksellers  in  Paris,  among  whose  names  we  find 
those  of  Messrs.  Gaume  and  of  M.  Le  Clerc,  publisher  of  the  Archbishop 
of  Paris,  has  recently  ])ublished  three  editions  of  the  Roman  Breviary, 
in  4  vols.,  12mo,  and  18mo,  at  prices  ranging  from  12  to  20  francs;  and 
has  a  fourth  edition  in  the  press,  in  1  vol.  Three  Missals  have  also 
issued  from  the  same  quarter ;  and  a  very  handsome  one  in  large  folio 
is  about  to  follow.  These  various  editions  speak  well  for  the  demand, 
and  may  be  taken  as  a  very  significant  "  sign  of  the  tiii?*»<»." 


Levey,  Robson,  and  Franklyn,  Great  New  Street  and  Fetter  Lane. 


Ci)e  i\aml)Ur. 


Part  III. 


CONTENTS. 

PAGV. 

Shams  and  Realities        .......     205 

The  Turks  and  the  Christians  in  Albania     .         .         ,     22S 

Reviews. — Miss  Strickland's  Life  of  Mary  Queen  of 
Scots.  Lives  of  the  Queens  of  Scotland,  and  English 
Princesses  connected  with  the  Royal  Succession  of 
Great  Britain.     Vol.  IV 239 

On  the  Study  of  Words.  Lectures  by  R.  C.  Trench, 
B.D.,  &c.  &c 249 

Our  Picture  in  the  Census.  Census  of  Great  Britain, 
1851  :  Religious.  Worship  of  England  and  Wales         .     257 

Music  for  Amateur  Performance,  Orpheus,  a  Col- 
lection of  German  Glees  with  English  Words. — Felix 
Mendelssohn  Bartholdy's  Six  Two-part  Songs. — Gems 
of  German  Song. — John  Sebastian  Bach's  Six  Motetts. 
— The  Organ  and  its  Construction     ....     280 

Short  Notices: 

Theology,  Philosophy,  &c 286 

Miscellaneous  Literature 291 

Foreign  Literature        ......  301 

Correspondence.  —  Holy  Water.  —  Cardinal  Wiseman,  Dr. 
Lingard,  and  Mr.  Tierney.  —  Dr.  Madden  and  his 
Reviewer 302 


VOL.  I. — NEW  SERIES. 


To  Correspondents. 

T.  Acknowledged  with  many  thanks.  As  to  the  second  point  on  which 
he  animadverts,  we  would  beg  to  call  his  attention  to  the  Pi-celectiones 
TheologkcB  of  Perrone,  S.  J.;  Tract,  de  Euch.  c.  2,  de  Transubs.  §  133; 
and  ibid.  §  149.     "  Nos  cum  Vasquezio,  Veronio,  aliisque  diximus,"  &c. 

A  valuable  letter  from  the  Very  Rev.  Canon  Oakeley,  on  Choirs  and 
Choral  Schools,  reached  us  on  the  17th  inst.,  and  shall  appear  in  our  next. 
We  must  beg, to  remind  our  corresporudents  that  it  is  absolutely  necessary 
that  they  should  forward  their  communications  as  early  as  possible  in  the 
month.'  As  a  general  rule,  it  is  impossible  that  any  letter  received  after 
the  middle  of  the  month  should  be  inserted  in  the  following  Number,  more 
especially  if  it  be  long.  We  would  also  impress  upon  them  the  necessity 
of  being  as  concise  as  they  can. 

We  are  not  able  to  insert  Mr.  Smith's  letter,  of  which  we  made  men- 
tion here  in  our  last  Number.  The  only  fact  in  it  which  requires  notice  is, 
that  the  Catholic  Directorj/  was  right  in  placing  Father  Charles  Cooke,  S.J., 
in  the  list  of  clergy,  and  ourselves  M'rong  in  stating  that  he  was  still  a  theo- 
logical student  at  St.  Beuno's. 

We  take  this  opportunity  of  announcing  that  for  the  future  we  cannot 
admit  the  letters  of  authors  commenting  on  the  reviews  we  may  have  given 
of  their  works,  excepting  only  in  those  cases  where  it  can  be  shown  that 
we  have  misstated  facts,  distorted  arguments,  or  imputed  false  motives. 
This  is  the  ordinary  rule  of  all  well-established  periodicals;  and  the  press 
of  matter  upon  our  columns  obliges  us  to  enforce  it  with  strictness. 

Correspondents  who  require  answers  in  private  are  requested  to  send 
their  complete  address,  a  precaution  not  always  observed. 

We  cannot  imdertake  to  return  rejected  communications. 

All  communications  must  be  postpaid.  Communications  respcctir 
Advertisements  must  be  addressed  to  the  publishers,  Messrs.  Burns  ai 
Lambert;  but  communications  intended  for  the  Editor  himself  should 
addressed  to  the  care  of  Mr.  Maheb,  101  New  Street,  Birmingham. 


THE    RAMBLER. 

Jl  Catl)0ltr  Jaurnal  ani  IfuieiD. 

Vol.  I.  New  Seiies.  MARCH  1854.  Part  III. 

SHAMS  AND  REALITIES. 

There  is  a  certain  sense  in  which  it  may  be  said  that  a  man 
ought  to  be  ashamed  of  himself,  if  he  is  not  wiser  than  his 
father  and  grandfather  before  him.  Of  course,  we  do  not 
mean  that  he  ought  to  be  hetter,  or  that  he  ought  to  think 
himself  really  wiser.  But  if  he  does  not  know  more  than  his 
father  and  grandfather  knew,  he  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  him- 
self; supposing,  of  course,  that  his  natural  capacities  are  on  a 
par  with  those  of  his  progenitors.  The  reason  is  palpable ; 
he  has  the  advantage  of  his  ancestor's  experience  as  well  as  of 
his  own.  There  is  no  prettier  fallacy  to  tempt  one's  logical 
acuteness,  than  that  which  lurks  under  the  statement  that 
the  times  past  were  the  old  days,  and  these  present  are  the 
new  days.  They  are  old  in  the  sense  that  the  people  who 
then  lived,  if  they  Avere  now  alive,  would  be  a  vast  deal  older 
than  we  are ;  but  viewing  the  statement  as  referring  to  the 
progress  of  the  world,  of  human  society,  of  man's  acquire- 
ments as  a  whole,  it  is  nothing  less  than  an  absolute  untruth. 
The  world  is  one  hundred  years  older  now  than  it  was  in  the 
year  1754,  and  it  ought  to  he  one  hundred  years  the  wiser. 

Whether  it  is  so,  is  another  question.  On  the  whole,  if 
we  compare  this  present  generation  with  that  which  existed 
a  century  back,  we  think  that  to-day  has  the  advantage  in 
nearly  every  thing.  From  coats,  wigs,  dinners,  drainage,  post- 
age, travelling,  poor-houses,  gaols,  elections,  upwards  through 
the  whole  range  of  every  thing  that  concerns  the  well-being  of 
humanity  and  the  prospects  of  religion,  the  middle  of  the 
nineteenth  century  may  fairly  claim  the  palm,  taking  it  as 
a  whole.  Unhappily,  indeed,  this  progress,  in  the  Protestant 
and  political  European  world,  is  accompanied  with  a  degree  of 
conceit  altogether  unparalleled  (we  suspect)  in  the  history  of 


206  Shams  and  Realities, 

man.  Never  was  there  a  generation  of  such  unbounded  self- 
complacency.  Here  and  there,  of  course,  are  to  be  found  in- 
dividuals, or  knots  of  thinkers  or  dreamers,  who  delight  to 
mourn  over  their  unhappy  fate  in  living  in  this  nineteenth 
century  of  the  Christian  era.  Vixere  fortes  a7ite  Agamemnonay 
they  cry ;  and  they  are  not  content  with  this :  there  are  no 
Agamemnons  now,  they  believe.  With  grumbling  old  Ulysses, 
they  fancy  that  nobody  can  do  now  what  people  did  "  once." 
But  these  are  not  the  characteristic  men  of  the  age.  The  awe 
is  a  puffing,  boasting,  vain-glorious  age,  which  will  go  down 
to  posterity  as  an  eminently  "  respectable"  age,  with  its  ex- 
press trains,  its  daily  newspapers,  its  improved  drainage,  and 
its  conceit  indescribable. 

To  suppose  that  we  English  Catholics  are  altogether  ex- 
empt from  this  prevailing  epidemic,  would  be  simply  aifecta- 
tion.  It  is  true  that  we  are  not  very  deeply  affected  by  it;  for 
this  reason,  among  more  praiseworthy  causes, — that  the  age 
takes  care  to  bestow  a  sufficient  number  of  hearty  kicks  and 
cuffs  upon  us,  to  cure  us  of  any  inordinate  belief  in  the^jer- 
fectionnement,  as  the  French  say,  of  the  human  species  in  our 
own  time.  Remembering  what  England  once  was,  and  view- 
ing the  relics  of  Catholic  splendour  and  prosperity  all  around 
us,  either  ruined  or  stolen  by  our  bitter  enemies,  it  is  natural 
enough  that  we  at  least  should  enter  a  caveat  against  the  self- 
glorification  which  is  dinned  into  our  ears  on  every  side,  and 
rejoice  to  remember  that  modesty  is  a  virtue  in  a  nation  and 
in  an  epoch,  as  well  as  in  a  solitary  individual. 

Still,  we  Catholics  are  not  immaculate.  Whatever  be  our 
views  as  to  the  progress  of  the  world  without,  we  are  by  no 
means  insensible  to  the  advance  we  have  ourselves  made  as 
Catholics  in  this  kingdom  during  the  present  century,  and 
especially  during  the  last  ten  or  twenty  years.  Already  we 
begin  to  glorify  ourselves  in  our  statistics;  that  is,  in  such 
statistics  as  are  to  be  gleaned,  from  lists  of  clergy  and  new 
churches.  We  compare  the  numbers  of  the  priesthood,  and 
the  sj^lendours  of  our  churches,  with  the  paucity  of  priests, 
and  poverty  of  functions  and  ecclesiastical  edifices,  at  the 
end  of  the  last  century ;  and  straightway  our  elevation  of 
spirits  is  extreme;  while  anti-Catholic  journalists  catch  up 
the  surprising  figures,  and  occasionally  reprint  them  to  the 
liorror  of  all  true  Protestants,  who  begin  instantly  to  tremhle 
for  the  safety  of  their  own  firesides.  Alas,  did  they  but 
know  that  this  increase  in  our  clergy  and  our  churches  has 
been  far  exceeded  in  proportion  by  the  increase  of  our  neces- 
sities, their  lamentations  would  be  changed  into  joy ;  and 
Lord  Shaftesbury  and  his  troops  of  prosely  tisers  would  feel 


Shajjis  and  Realities,  S07 

liemselves  "  called"  to  renewed  zeal  in  their  attempts  to  cor« 
upt  the  faith  of  our  poor  and  of  our  children. 

Let  us,  however,  be  just  to  ourselves  ;  and  before  we  dwell 
pon  our  most  urgent  wants,  let  us  rapidly  touch  upon  the 
arious  points  in  which,  without  suspicion  of  vanity,  we  may 
iirly  be  said  to  have  made  a  genuine,  healthy,  and  really 
piritual  advance  during  tlie  last  quarter  and  half  century. 
Ne  purposely  confine  our  remarks  to  this  more  recent  period,  in 
reference  to  extending  our  review  to  any  more  distant  date, 
rom  a  conviction  of  the  difficulty  of  forming  a  correct  opinion 
n  the  really  comparative  merits  of  the  present  day,  and  those 
f  a  hundred  years  ago.  The  records  we  possess  of  that 
poch  are  scanty  in  the  extreme ;  of  its  inner  life  we  know 
ut  little;  and  as  every  age  must  be  judged,  not  simply  by 
ts  positive  actions,  but  by  its  actions  in  connection  with  its 
pportunities,  it  seems  quite  impossible  to  institute  any  fair 
omparison  between  the  British  Catholics  of  1854  and  those 
f  1754.  Confining  our  range,  then,  to  the  lifetime  ofour- 
elves  and  our  fathers,  it  cannot  be  doubted  that,  on  the 
►'hole,  the  Catholic  religion  has  steadily  and  healthily  ad- 
anced  in  these  realms.  In  numbers,  indeed,  we  have  gained 
ittle  or  no  acquisitions,  except  so  far  as  the  national  increase 
if  population  has  proportionately  added  to  our  ranks.  In 
lingland  and  Scotland,  in  places  where  we  now  have  thousands 
nstead  of  hundreds,  it  is  Ireland  which  has  supplied  the  mul- 
itudes.  The  Irish  are  almost  every  where;  if  not  in  myriads, 
et  in  numbers  which,  however  small,  serve  to  show  how 
eep  are  the  obligations  which  English  Catholicism  owes  to 
reland  for  supplying  and  repairing  the  groundwork  of  our 
low  numerous  missions.  As  to  conversions,  it  is  doubtful 
whether  they  have  numerically  kept  pace  with  the  losses  to 
he  Church  by  death,  open  apostasy,  and  the  gradual  extinc- 
ion  of  the  faith,  especially  among  the  poor,  through  mar- 
iages  with  Protestants,  and  the  loss  of  the  ordinary  means  of 
jrace.  The  convert  of  rank  or  distinction  is  known  and  remem- 
)ered,  while  the  poor  man's  apostasy  is  scarcely  even  known. 
A'^hat  a  fearful  list  is  registered  in  heaven — and,  alas,  else- 
vhere  also — of  thousands  and  thousands  who,  utterly  for- 
gotten from  the  very  force  of  circumstances,  have  silently  dis- 
ippeared  from  the  family  of  the  Church,  and  died  as  heathens; 
caving  behind  them  a  progeny  to  grow  up  in  the  nameless 
:rowds  of  English  paganism,  or  to  swell  the  numbers  of  some 
sne  of  England's  innumerable  sects.  Every  station,  too,  has 
supplied  its  apostates.  There  is  probably  not  a  Catholic 
amily  of  res])ectability  in  the  kingdom  which  cannot  name 
Dne  or  more  households  among  its  acquaintance,  in  which  the 


^8  ^hams  and  Realities, 

last  half  century  lias  not  witnessed  not  merely  individual,  but 
houseliold  apostasies;  or  that  tacit  acquiescence  in  unbehef, 
which  in  another  generation  brings  forth  absolute  Protestant- 
ism. Such  a  man  or  woman  "  ought  to  be  a  Catholic,"  is  a 
saying — odd  as  the  expression  is — with  which  we  are  all  of 
us  but  too  painfully  familiar;  and  in  conjunction  with  the 
proofs  of  the  frequent  falling  from  the  faith  among  the  for- 
gotten poor,  it  ought  to  check  all  undue  exultation  among  us 
on  the  score  of  our  success  in  fighting  the  battles  of  the  faith 
against  the  hosts  of  enemies  who  are  drawn  up  in  array  on 
every  side  around  us. 

On  the  increase  of  our  new  chui*ches,  viewed  with  refer- 
ence to  our  necessities,  we  postpone  our  remarks  for  a  few 
pages.     Viewed  with  reference  to  their  intrinsic  merits,  and 
to  the  general  character  of  the  religious  functions  carried  out 
within  their  walls,  the  balance  of  criticism  must  surely  incline 
in  their  favour.    If,  indeed,  we  were  to  judge  of  the  success  of 
our  cultivation  of  the  externals  of  religion  by  the  reports  which 
sometimes  appear  in  our  newspapers,  boundless  would  be  our 
satisfaction  and  surprise.    To  judge  by  what  appears  in  print, 
such  an  era  of  art  and  beauty  never  dawned  before  upon  this 
lower  sphere.     Unhappily,  not  a  little  of  all  this  newspaper 
ecstasy  is  mere  puffery  and  penny-a-lining.     It  is  one  of  the 
misfortunes    of  the   day,    that  our  journals   supply   nothing 
worthy  the  name  of  fair  and  intelligent  criticism  on  subjeqi 
of  ecclesiastical  art  and  splendour.     The  silliness  of  the  ''rj 
ports"  which  are  supplied  by  ''  correspondents"  is  become  a 
proverb.     One  class  of  these  gentry  actually  give  us  the  r 
brics  of  the  Missal  or  Pontifical,  done  into  indifferent  Eng 
by  way  of  a  description  of  ceremonies  hitherto   totally 
known  in  this  benighted  land.    We  really  shall  hardly  won 
if  some  day  we  are  treated  with  the  Lord's  Prayer  and  t 
Apostles'  Creed  under  the  heading  of  "  Catholic  Intelligenc 
Mixed  up,  too,  with  this  novel  species  of  "news,"  we  ge 
rally  have  a  sort  of  scene  presented  to  our  vision,  embracir 
in  a  kind  of  glittering  fog,  names,  and  titles,  and  vague  rap- 
tures  about   beauty,   splendour,  munificence ;    Miss  A.   thi 
singer,  with  her  "  thrilling  tones,"  and  Mr.  B.  the  builder, 
with  his  unparalleled  skill ;  while  not  one  single  notion  is  t< 
be  gained  as  to  the  real  characteristics  of  what  is  thus  floridh 
described ;  and  we  rise  from  the  perusal,  saying  to  ourselve;- 
that  we  have  read  precisely  the  same  thing  a  hundred  timet 
before.     As  to  the  new  churches  themselves  and  their  furni- 
ture, we  ordinarily  have  an  abstract  of  the  architect's  speci 
cation  presented  to  us,  by  way  of  impressing  us  with  an  id 
of  the  wonders  that  have  been  accomplished:  the  fact  bein 


*         Shai?is  and  Realities,  ^09 

that  this  portion  of  the  "  report"  is  often  furnished  by  the 
architect  himself;  who,  not  being  willing  either  to  puff  or  to 
criticise  his  own  performances,  is  constrained  to  put  us  off 
with  a  catalogue  of  windows  and  doors,  when  all  we  want  is 
to  know  what  his  work  looks  like  now  that  it  is  finished. 

Our  present  purpose,  however,  is  not  to  discuss  the  ad- 
vance of  Catholic  gestheticism,  or  to  criticise  the  justness  of 
our  claim  to  be  considered  as  restorers  of  Christian  art. 
Whatever  be  our  success,  whatever  our  shortcomings,  there 
can  be  no  question  that  the  importance  of  a  thorough  adapta- 
tion of  the  externals  of  religion  to  their  invisible  and  spiritual 
significance  is  now  recognised  to  an  extent  little  known  to  the 
past  generation.  Not  that  we  take  upon  us  to  blame  them 
for  their  apparently  listless  acquiescence  in  a  state  of  things 
which,  to  our  more  fastidious  taste,  appears  scarcely  compa- 
tible with  a  zeal  for  the  glory  of  God's  house.  A  contrast 
between  the  meagreness  and  poverty  of  Catholic  chapels  and 
functions  of  fifty  years  since,  with  the  comparative  abundance 
and  grandeur  of  our  churches  and  ceremonies  of  to-day,  would 
be  most  unfair.  Our  fathers  could  not  do  what  we  have  done. 
The  iron  hand  of  a  cruel  government  was  upon  them ;  and, 
moreover,  tlie  whole  subject  of  ecclesiastical  art,  treated  sim- 
ply as  art,  was  little  studied  and  little  understood.  The  praise 
which  is  due  to  ourselves  is,  that  we_  have,  with  whatever  er- 
rors in  judgment,  set  ourselves  in  good  earnest  to  express  in 
visible  beauty  our  sense  of  the  unseen  glories  of  grace  which 
dwell  in  the  Church  of  Jesus  Christ.  A  scarcely-altered  meet- 
ing-house is  no  longer  regarded  as  a  fit  home  for  the  faith  of 
eigliteen  centuries.  We  are  all  coming  to  hold  that  Catholi- 
cism has  its  natural  language  and  -expression,  and  that  our 
only  efibrt  should  be  to  ascertain  how  best  that  language  and 
expression  may  be  realised  in  the  works  of  Christian  art 
which  it  is  given  to  us  to  call  into  existence.  Every  year 
sees  a  gradual  yet  rapid  advance  towards  the  solution  of  the 
great  problem,  how  best  the  external  celebration  of  Christian 
worship  may  be  made  at  once  English  and  Catholic,  attractive 
and  reverent,  and  suited  both  to  the  learned  few  and  to  the 
uncultivated  many.  In  this,  as  in  all  other  human  efi'orts,  it 
were  absurd  to  expect  perfection  in  a  day,  or  a  month,  or  a 
year.  It  is  enougli  to  check  all  despondency  or  excessive 
discontent,  to  compare  1851  with  184^9,  and  1849  with  1844, 
and  1844  again  with  another  five  or  ten  years  previous;  and 
to  note  how  marked  has  been  the  improvement,  and  how  pro- 
lific is  the  soil,  of  the  English  Catholic  mind  when  fairly 
cultured. 

Take,  next,  the  momentously  important  subject  of  Catholic 
literature.       Here  we  have  little  cause  for  self-gratulation. 


210  Shams  and  Realities, 

The  creation  of  an  English  Catholic  literature  has  as  yet  been 
scarcely  commenced.  From  dogmatic  theology  down  to  fic- 
tion, children's  books,  and  penny  periodicals,  we  can  hardly  be 
said  to  have  begun  the  great  work  with  that  spontaneous, 
vigorous  flow  which  characterises  the  literary  undertakings  of 
a  community  fully  prepared  to  take  the  place  assigned  to  it 
by  Divine  Providence  in  its  age  and  nation.  A  few  isolated 
books,  most  of  them  of  really  intrinsic  value,  and  some  of  them 
of  rare  excellence,  are  all  that  the  English  Catholic  press  has 
to  boast  of  during  the  present  generation.  Alban  Butler's, 
Challoner's,  and  Milner's  writings  belong  to  a  state  of  things 
now  gone  by,  in  fact,  almost  more  than  in  date.  They  have 
taken  their  place  among  English  Catholic  classics.  The  good 
solid  substance  which  is  their  distinguishing  feature  will  insure 
them  a  popularity  and  a  practical  usefulness,  perhaps  far 
longer  than  their  learned  and  pious  authors  could  have  hoped 
for.  Butler's  Saints'  Lives,  in  particular,  with  all  their  de- 
fects of  omission,  with  all  their  occasional  (apparent  at  least) 
fear  of  Protestant  censures,  with  all  their  heaviness  of  style  j| 
and  form.ality  of  treatment,  contain  an  amount  of  information,  m 
and  in  some  instances  a  lucid  exposition  of  difficult  matters, 
which  will  command  them  a  place  in  every  Catholic  library  j 
for  many  a  year  to  come.  With  Lingard  the  new  generation  S 
of  Catholic  writers  may  be  considered  as  commencing,  though 
there  are  peculiarities,  and,  in  our  judgment,  errors,  in  Lin- 
gard's  ideas,  with  which  the  prevailing  spirit  of  English  Ca- 
tholicism has  now  but  little  sympathy.  Reckoning,  however, 
from  Lingard's  works  down  to  Dalgairns's  book  on  Jansenism —  ] 
our  last  work  of  any  pretensions  to  originality  and  excellence 
— a  couple  of  shelves  will  more  than  contain  all  the  genuine 
productions  of  the  English  Catholic  mind  which  stand  any 
chance  of  being  remembered  by  posterity,  or  which  have  ex- 
erted any  living  influence  on  the  age  which  has  given  them 
birth.  How  soon  our  intellectual  strength  may  be  such  as  to 
enable  us  to  do  for  our  English  fellow-Catholics  and  our  Pro- 
testant countrymen  what  the  French  Church  is  doing  with  so 
astonishing  a  power  and  fertility  for  France,  it  is  impossible  to 
foresee.  We  confess  that  our  anticipations  of  any  thing  very 
remarkable  in  the  way  of  speedy  improvement  are  not  particu- 
larly sanguine.  Too  many  of  us  know  so  little,  that  we  do  not 
yet  perceive  how  little  is  our  all.  At  the  same  time,  it  were  fu- 
tile to  deny  that  there  is  increasing  among  us  a  deep,  genuine, 
and  healthy  sense  of  the  momentous  importance  of  a  sound 
and  vigorous  Catholic  literature;  while  there  are  various  indi- 
cations of  latent  powers,  and  honest,  self-denying  zeal,  which, 
if  not  sufficient  to  warrant  any  confident  expectations,  are 
amply  abundant  to  enliven  us  with  a  well-grounded  hcype. 


I 


Shams  and  Realities,  211 

As  to  the  innumerable  republications,  translations,  and 
compilations  wliicli  have  been  brought  out  by  Catholic  pub- 
lishers for  some  years  past,  they  are  for  the  most  part  the 
mere  results  of  commercial  speculation  and  business-like 
energy.  For  ourselves,  we  think  there  are  already  a  great  deal 
too  many  of  them.  Many  of  them  were  totally  unworthy  of 
republication  at  all,  from  their  mediocrity  of  character  ;  and 
of  those  which  are  translations,  the  majority  are — to  use  the 
plain  but  true  phrase — as  versions  from  a  foreign  language, 
detestable;  frequently  disguising  and  perverting  the  sentiments 
of  the  originals,  and  clothing  the  whole  in  a  caricature  of 
ungrammatical  and  un-English  phraseology  which  proves  that 
the  translators  knew  neither  their  own  language  nor  that  which 
they  have  attempted  to  interpret.  As  to  appearance,  includ- 
ing printing,  paper,  binding,  and  illustrations,  every  respect- 
able Catholic  is  so  thoroughly  ashamed  of  five  out  of  every  six 
of  tlie  cheaper  class  of  our  publications,  that  on  this  head  little 
need  be  said.  If  we  take  up  a  Catholic  book,  the  chances  are 
two  to  one  that  in  the  first  lialf-dozen  pages  we  see  some  mis- 
print or  other  typographical  defect;  that  the  letter-press  is  so 
small  that  nobody  above  forty  years  of  age  can  read  it  with 
comfort,  the  paper  of  the  commonest  species,  the  "engravings'* 
ludicrous,  the  stitching  and  the  binding  the  manifest  work  of 
fifth-rate  workmen  or  boys,  and  the  whole  thing  so  utterly  dis- 
reputable, that  we  should  search  in  vain  among  the  books  of 
any  other  class,  or  any  Protestant  sect  in  the  country,  for  a 
series  of  books  so  little  creditable  to  all  parties  concerned  in 
their  production.  Of  course,  there  are  exceptions  to  the  rule, 
and  striking  exceptions  too  ;  but  they  are  the  exceptions;  and 
being  such,  cannot  be  accepted  as  characteristic  specimens  of 
the  Catholic  press  of  to-day.  This  state  of  things  cannot,  of 
course,  be  instantaneously  put  an  end  to,  even  by  the  most 
munificent  pecuniary  liberality.  Money  alone  will  not  create 
authors  and  books.  Time  alone,  with  an  advance  in  our  gene- 
ral habits  of  study  and  thought,  can  form  a  class  of  men  capa- 
ble at  once  of  appreciating  and  supplying  the  real  necessities 
of  their  time.  Still,  money  will  do  something;  nay,  much. 
As  things  now  are,  or  have  been,  there  is  a  benumbing  chill 
in  the  Catholic  literary  atmospliere,  which  paralyses  every 
writer  or  publisher  who  would  bring  out  any  thing  more  than 
a  reprint,  a  bad  translation,  or  a  mere  prayer-book.  The 
apathy  of  those  amongst  us  who  have  money,  more  or  less,  is  a 
niountain  in  every  author's  path.  Were  not  the  fact  too  well 
known  to  our  readers,  we  should  hardly  venture  to  assert  that 
the  number  of  Catholic  gentry,  or  persons  in  tolerably  easy 
circumstances,  who  are  literally  callous  to  the  claims  of  Ca- 


^1^  iShai7is  and  Realities. 

tholic  authorship,  is  melancholy  in  the  extreme.  Hundreds 
and  liundreds  of  persons  grumble  at,  and  lament  over,  and 
criticise  the  present  state  of  Catholic  literature,  while  it 
never  occurs  to  them  that  if  individual  Catholics  will  not  fre- 
quently buy  books  simply  to  encourage  the  cause,  and  not 
because  they  personally  want  to  read  them,  there  is  no  hope 
of  a  better  condition  of  things.  A  gentleman  who  can  af- 
ford it,  ought  to  buy  all  new  Catholic  publications  of  tolerable 
merit.  Where  the  clergy  can  do  so,  no  doubt  the  same  obli- 
gation rests  on  them  ;  but  our  clergy  are  poor,  while  out  of 
their  poverty  the}'  do  far  more  in  proportion  for  the  support 
of  Catholic  literature,  than  do  our  aristocracy  and  men  of  sub- 
stance. Of  our  wealthier  laity,  some,  undoubtedly,  are  brighr 
examples  in  this  as  in  every  other  virtue,  moral,  intellectual, 
and  social,  which  adorns  the  perfect  Christian  gentleman ;  but. 
unhappily,  their  example  is  not  yet  as  universally  appreciated 
and  followed  as  it  ought  to  be.  Let  us,  however,  be  just ; 
every  year  witnesses  a  change  for  the  better;  and  we  trust, 
nay,  we  are  persuaded,  that  a  few  more  years  will  see  the 
higher  ranks  of  our  Catholic  laity  no  longer  behind  their  Pro- 
testant fellow-countrymen  of  similar  degree,  in  the  encourage- 
ment of  every  thing  that  leads  to  the  Christian  cultivation  of 
the  intelligence. 

Our  Catholic  literature  has,  further,  laboured  under  another 
disadvantage,  which,  though  to  a  superficial  observer  it  may 
seem  no  disadvantage  at  all,  undoubtedly  operates  very  in- 
juriously upon  our  world  of  letters.  An  unfortunate  notion 
has  prevailed  amongst  those  whose  duty  it  has  been  to  criticise 
new  Catholic  publications,  that  every  Catholic  book  is  to 
puffed^  unless  it  contains  some  outrageously  glaring  offen 
against  morals  or  doctrine ;  or  unless  it  espouses  a  differe; 
side  from  that  which  the  critic  himself  upholds  on  any  one 
of  those  subjects  on  which  the  English  and- Irish  Cat! 
are  divided  in  opinion.  This  mistaken  tenderness  arises  <> 
times  from  sheer  cowardice,  but  very  often  from  a  desire  t^ 
deal  tenderly  with  Catholic  authors  and  publishers,  the  formei 
of  whom  are  generally  actuated  by  the  best  motives,  even  when 
their  contributions  to  our  literature  are  most  worthless;  and 
the  latter  of  whom  have  so  many  difficulties  to  contend  with, 
in  the  ordinary  course  of  business,  that  they  think  they  are 
entitled  to  a  lift  from  every  Catholic  reviewer  for  religioi^ 
sake;  and  also,  no  doubt,  in  return  for  the  advertiseme 
of  their  books. 

Now,  we  are  as  far  as  possible  from  saying  that,  as  th 
now  are,  it  is  not  better  for  the  reviewer  to  err  on  the  side 
leniency  than  on  that  of  severity.     But  at  the  same  time,  it: 


I 


Shams  and  Realities,  '  213 

obvious,  that  to  manufacture  laudatory  reviews  on  these  grounds 
is  to  reduce  the  whole  office  of  criticism  to  a  solemn.and  impu- 
dent farce.  Readers  complain  that  they  are  taken  in  by  critics ; 
and  say  with  justice,  that  until  criticism  is  at  the  least  honest,  it 
must  be  sheer  humbug,  and  must  really  do  more  harm  than 
good.  Excessive  thin-skinnedness,  we  are  reminded,  is  an  un- 
deniable symptom  of  mediocrity  and  shallowness.  Strong  men 
do  not  mind  a  hard  blow  now  and  then ;  and  even  if  a  bookseller 
turns  sulky,  or  an  author  gets  into  a  passion,  these  misfortunes 
can  be  got  over;  and  meanwhile  the  cause  advances;  writers 
will  learn  to  take  more  pains,  publishers  will  learn  at  once 
prudence  and  commercial  boldness ;  and  both  classes,  when 
they  produce  any  thing  of  real  merit,  will  be  rewarded  by  a 
sale  from  purchasers  who  now  make  it  a  rule  to  pay  as  little 
regard  to  Catholic  reviews  as  to  "  Catholic  Intelligence." 

Nearly  akin  to  the  subject  of  literature  is  that  of  educa- 
tion. Of  the  progress  of  education  in  our  middle  and  upper 
classes,  there  can  be  little  doubt  that  it  is  both  general  and 
real;  it  is  when  we  turn  to  a  branch  of  the  subject  which  is, 
perhaps,  of  even  more  importance  at  the  present  juncture,  viz. 
the  education  of  the  poor,  that  we  witness  a  condition  of  affairs 
in  which  the  "  shams  and  realities"  of  the  di-dj  assume  their 
most  striking  proportions.  That  our  minds  are  more  alive 
to  the  vital  character  of  the  whole  question  than  they  were  a 
few  years  ago  cannot  for  an  instant  be  questioned ;  nor  will 
any  candid  person,  whatever  his  views  may  be,  deny  that  a 
very  considerable  amount  of  solid  and  valuable  instruction,  and 
what  is  far  more,  of  education,  is  now  enjoyed  by  the  crowds 
of  our  poor  Catholics  in  Great  Britain,  On  the  Irish  aspect 
of  the  question  we  do  not  propose  at  present  to  touch ;  though 
we  cannot  forbear  remarking  that,  under  the  influence  of  that 
spirit  which  emanates  from  the  Archbishop  of  Dublin,  and 
vliich  has  already  done  so  much  in  so  short  a  time  and  with 
ao  little  show,  there  is  every  prospect  that  the  peculiar  diffi- 
culties which  have  hitherto  beset  the  progress  of  popular 
education  in  Ireland  will  rapidly  disappear,  and  that  the 
well-known  intelligence  and  acuteness  which  characterises 
the  Irish  peasantry  will  be  cultured  with  that  thoroughly  Ca- 
tholic training  which  will  make  it  a  blessing  to  along-suffering 
people,  whether  the  British  government  are  concerned  in  it 
or  no. 

We  wish  we  could  think  that  no  worse  perils  encompassed 
the  path  of  popular  education  in  England  than  those  v/hich 
beset  it  in  Ireland.  Though  we  have  little  sympathy  with 
those  who  would  altogether  reject  government  aid,  and  who 
look  with  unmixed  aversion  upon  the  system  of  government 


214  Shams  and  Realities, 

inspection  wliicli  Is  now  the  necessary  accompaniment  of  that 
aid,  we  confess  that,  in  an  age  which,  like  the  present,  is  all 
abroad  on  the  true  principles  of  popular  education,  the  system 
of  inspection  is  fraught  with  danger  of  most  serious  character. 
Were  it  the  unanimous  behef  of  the  English  people  that  no 
education  is  worth  any  thing  which  does  not  directly  tend  to 
make  the  poor  happier  and  better^  we  should  have  little  fear. 
But  as  it  is,  one  gigantic  system  of  imposture  is  overspreading 
the  land.  Under  the  guise  of  instruction,  millions  who  labour 
with  their  hands  are  being  crammed  with  information,  much 
of  which  is  mere  word-knowledge,  and  still  more  of  which  can 
exert  no  possible  beneficial  influence  on  their  future  lives; 
the  memory  is  loaded,  and  a  superficial  "  sharpness"  is  ac- 
quired, while  an  undue  regard  for  barren  knowledge  is  fostered, 
and  though tfulness,  humility,  imaginative  power,  and  all  the 
other  and  nobler  powers  of  the  soul  are  comparatively  neg- 
lected. To  these  considerations  add  the  facts,  first,  that  all 
government  rewards  (ivhich  are,  in  truth,  nearly  the  only  a 
reioards  aivaiting  the  successful  student)  are  necessarily  given  % 
to  secular  proficiency ;  and  secondly,  that  no  examination  by 
a  chance  visitor  can  be  a  fair  test  of  real  proficiency  and  merit; 
and  we  see  at  once  what  a  frightful  engine  for  ruin  the  entire 
plan  of  inspection  may  become,  and  what  zealous  and  per- 
severing efforts  ought  to  be  made  on  the  part  of  good  Catholics 
to  neutralise  the  injurious  effects  of  that  government  aid  which 
unhappily  we  cannot  do  without.  We  are  far  from  saying 
that  such  evils  ^«z;e  resulted,  but  that  they  may  result;  and 
they  will  result,  not  from  any  man's  misdoing,  but  from  the 
natural  action  of  a  system  which  necessarily  rewards  quickness, 
memory,  coolness,  and  secular  information;  while  the  genuine 
tests  of  the  praiseworthy  Catholic  scholar,  viz.  diligence, 
solidity,  simplicity,  accuracy,  and  depth  of  thought  and  reli- 
gious information,  are  almost  entirely  unrecognised  and  unre- 
warded. Much  of  this  mischief  may,  no  doubt,  be  corrected 
by  the  personal  qualifications  of  the  inspector  of  schools,  whose 
office  we  look  upon  as  one  of  the  most  important  and  most 
difficult  which  can  be  confided  to  an  English  Catholic.  It  was, 
therefore,  with  much  gratification  that  we  saw  that  when  an 
additional  Catholic  inspector  was  recently  appointed,  the  work 
was  committed  to  one  who,  in  his  capacity  as  secretary  to  our 
Poor  School  Committee,  had  proved  at  once  his  qualifications 
as  a  man  of  energy  and  practical  habits,  and  his  devotion,  not 
merely  to  the  education,  but  to  the  Catholic  education  of  our 
almost  innumerable  poor.  The  substitution,  however,  of  the 
reality  of  a  Catholic,  for  the  sham  of  a  government  education,  is 
a  work  which  no  inspectors  alone  can  accomplish.     The  duty 


Shams  arid  Realities,  ^15 

rests  with  the  managers  and  masters  of  schools.  Without 
tlieir  enlightened  and  cordial  co-operation,  an  inspector  can  do 
little  or  nothing.  All  such,  therefore,  we  venture  earnestly  to 
remind,  that  no  education  is  deserving  the  name  which  does 
not  directly  tend  to  fit  a  child  for  the  occupations  and  demands 
of  his  future  life,  both  on  earth  and  in  heaven. 

From  schools  for  the  poor  we  naturally  turn  to  the  aspect 
and  condition  of  the  general  body  of  the  English  Catholic 
laity  of  all  ranks.  Here,  in  some  respects,  the  change  which 
has  taken  place  for  the  better  is  more  marked  than  in  almost 
any  other  of  the  tests  by  which  the  growing  power  of  any 
branch  of  the  Church  is  to  be  ascertained.  Of  course,  we 
refer  only  to  those  points  which  are  fairly  matters  for  public 
observation.  The  first  thing  that  always  struck  an  observer 
with  respect  to  the  condition  of  the  English  Catholic  laity,  was 
its  extreme  numerical  inequalities  in  the  various  gradations  of 
rank  and  position  which  go  to  make  up  a  complete  social  body. 
The  tyranny  of  three  centuries  had  wrought  its  natural  re- 
sults upon  us.  We  had  become  a  congeries  of  fragments, 
rather  tiian  a  united  society,  with  all  its  necessary  members. 
That  which  constitutes  the  chief  strength  of  a  community  was 
grievously  wanting  to  us.  Our  poor  were  (and  still  to  a  great 
extent  are)  the  very  poor ;  our  tradesmen  were  for  the  most 
part  of  the  smaller,  least  active,  least  influential,  and  least  busi- 
ness-like sort;  we  had  a  tolerably  large  share  of  men  of  title  or 
large  wccilth,  while  what  may  be  called  the  professional  class 
was  singularly  scarce  amongst  us.  This  last,  indeed,  was  our 
most  grievous,  but  through  the  action  of  the  penal  laws,  most 
unavoidable  deficiency  ;  tor  it  is  with  this  class  that  the  power 
and  influence  of  every  religious  section  of  the  nation  chiefly 
resides.  These  are  the  men  who  form  the  minds  of  their 
fellow-countrymen  ;  both  of  those  above  them  in  wealth  and 
rank,  and  those  below  them  either  in  intelligence  or  riches,  or 
in  both.  Above  the  mercantile  class  (that  is  above  the  ordi- 
nary  run  of  mercantile  men)  in  culture,  polish,  tastes,  and 
capacity  for  literary  and  political  affairs;  compelled  by  the 
want  of  ample  private  fortunes  to  use  their  brains,  and  turn 
their  powers  to  active  account;  equal  in  refinement  and  edu- 
cation to  the  noblest  in  the  land,  while  those  whom  fortune 
has  gifted  with  hereditary  wealtli  have  no  stimulus  to  spur 
them  on  to  energetic  action, — this  is  the  class  in  the  social  f^i- 
bric  which  sways  the  destiny  of  an  age;  represents  with  res- 
pectability and  vigour  the  religious  or  political  community  to 
which  it  belongs;  is  found  in  the  senate,  the  court  of  justice, 
the  public  meeting,  the  regiment,  the  ship  of  war,  and  the 
learned  society ;  writes  in  books,  newspapers^  reviews ;  takes 


216  Shams  and  Realities^ 

the  lead  in  public  and  private  controversy;  and  in  every  way 
proves  itself  the  thinking  and  moving  power  in  the  secular 
state.  When,  moreover,  this  class  is  nearly  wanting  in  any 
community  or  nation,  there  is  no  natural  bond  between  the 
highest  and  the  lowest  ranks.  The  noble  and  the  landed  gentry 
have  no  link  to  bind  them  to  the  tradesman  and  the  labourer. 
They  sit  apart  in  the  elevation  of  their  social  position  and  the 
superiority  of  their  personal  acquirements,  scarcely  recog- 
nising in  their  shopkeepers  and  servants  men  of  the  same 
opinions  and  interests,  scarcely  even  of  the  same  human 
nature  as  themselves. 

That  we  English  Catholics  have  suffered  much  from  thi: 
anomalous  state  of  affairs,  is  too  evident ;  but  that  a  strikiii*. 
and  rapid  revolution  is  now  in  progress,  is  equally  evident. 
Both  from  the  members  of  old  Catholic  families,  partly  by 
the  increased  intellectual  activity  of  the  younger  branches  oi 
the  wealthy  and  the  noble,  and  partly  by^  the  natural  rise  in 
the  scale  of  many  of  the  middle  ranks,  and  also  by-  a  large  in- 
fusion of  converts  from  the  most  cultivated  and  powerful  of 
the  ranks  of  Protestantism,  the  corj)orate  frame  of  English 
Catholicism  is  being  rapidly  knit  together  into  a  healthy  man- 
hood ;  while  it  is  notorious  that  in  every^  rank  a  large  pro- 
portion of  the  converts  are  from  the  very  best  social  represen- 
tatives of  the  class  from  which  they  come.  It  may  suit  the 
convenience  of  Protestants  to  pretend  that  converts  are  nearl; 
all  women  or  fools ;  but  they  who  know  the  facts  of  the  cas 
are  well  aware  that  it  is  far  from  being  the  truth. 

Without  pretending,  too,  to  institute  any  personal  coi 
parison  between  the  Catholic  aristocracy^  and  gentry  of 
day  with  their  fathers  and  grandfathers,  we  cannot  forbei 
calling  attention  to  the  remarkable  improvement  in  coura<^ 
and  Catholic  profession  which  the  last  few  years  have  wij 
nessed  amongst  us.  As  to  pretending  that-  all  our  high< 
class  are  immaculate,  that  we  have  none  who  are  any  thii 
but  an  honour  to  the  Catholic  name,  that  there  are  not 
many  among  us  who  prefer  peace  with  the  world  to  suffering^ 
for  the  Cross,  even  to  the  extent  of  a  newspaper  attack;  ii 
would  be  absurd  to  claim  any^  such  faultless  Catholicism  foi 
them,  both  as  a  body  and  individually.  Nevertheless,  thosi 
who  remember  the  days  of  the  old  Cisalpine  Club,  or  even  tin 
days  of  the  Reform  Bill,  can  be  nothing  less  than  astonishet 
to  trace  the  signs  which  every  year  supplies  of  a  growing  Ca 
tholic  spirit  in  the  representatives  of  our  hereditary  Cat 
cism.  Where  the  bold  were  once  the  few,  they  are  no^ 
many.  Men  who  dared  not,  or  who  would  not,  avow 
selves  the  spiritual  subjects  of  a  foreign  prince,  are  now  cag( 


Ig   V^il 

m 


M 


Shams  and  Realities,  217 

:o  disclaim  the  faintest  imputation  on  their  loyalty  to  the 
Pope.  The  spirit  of  slavish  Gallicanism,  or  of  any  other 
form  of  Anti-papal  nationalism,  is  no  longer  powerful  in  the 
Catholic  press.  Whenever  it  does  appear,  it  is  with  timidity 
and  apologetic  assertions  of  the  purity  of  its  motives,  and  the 
orthodoxy  of  its  sentiments.  As  a  power  amongst  us,  it  is 
<Tone.  We  apprehend  that  since  the  Reformation,  such  a 
document  as  the  Catholic  protest  against  the  Ecclesiastical 
Titles'  Bill  has  not  emanated  from  the  body  of  the  English 
laity,  for  spirit  and  for  numerical  importance  of  signatures. 
Five-and-twenty  years  ago,  who  would  have  stirred  among  us 
to  sympathise  openly  with  a  persecuted  foreign  prelate  like 
the  Archbishop  of  Freiburg  ?  Our  ruling  maxim  used  to  be, 
to  keep  well  with  the  British  Government;  to  look  for  fiivours 
from  the  W^higs  ;  and  of  all  things  in  the  world,  to  let  no  mor- 
tal man  suspect  that  we  thought  the  Pope  of  Rome  a  greater 
personage  than  the  Sovereign  of  England. 

In  pecuniary  liberality,  again,  we  seem  to  be  certainly  on 
the  advance.  This,  of  course,  is  a  difficult  point  on  which  to 
form  an  opinion ;  as  it  is  not  easy  to  learn  what  any  man 
gives,  and  what  good  reasons  he  may  have  for  not  giving.  If 
certain  charities,  or  other  old  channels  of  Catholic  bountiful- 
ness,  are  not  now  so  freely  supported  as  formerly,  the  cause  is 
to  be  found  in  the  vast  increase  of  such  charities  and  channels 
in  all  parts  of  the  country,  which  rightly  have  an  especial 
claim  upon  persons  locally  connected  with  them.  On  the 
whole,  however,  we  cannot  but  think  that  Catholic  liberality 
has  kept  pace  with  Catholic  courage  ;  and  that  every  year  wit- 
nesses a  fresh  step  in  the  march.  Yet,  what  a  list  might  be 
made  of  Catholics  of  substance,  whose  gifts  to  religion  bear  no 
sort  of  proportion  to  their  appareiit  means,  or  to  the  splendour 
of  their  mode  of  life  1  Some,  nay  many,  are  generous  and 
self-denying  to  the  last  degree  ;  but  it  is  a  universal  complaint 
amongst  those  who  are  most  conversant  with  the  subject,  that 
there  are  many  to  whom  it  never  seems  to  occur  that  "pro- 
perty has  its  duties  as  well  as  its  rights;"  and  that  a  very 
small  amount  of  self-sacrifice  for  the  necessities  of  others 
would  work  an  amount  of  good  which  they  little  anticipate. 
Again,  however,  let  us  be  just  to  all  parties.  Many  things 
have  taken  place  which  have  tended  to  check  the  munificence 
of  those  whom  God  has  intrusted  with  large  wealth.  The 
system  of  general  begging — necessary  as  it  has  been,  and  even 
may  still  sometimes  be — has  had  the  natural  effect  of  worry- 
ing those  who  are  often  appealed  to  by  strangers,  and  who 
know  nothing  of  tlie  manner  in  which  their  gifts  arc  in  the 
end  applied.     Large  sum.s  of  money  have  notoriously  been 


^18  Shams  and  Realities, 

injudiciously  spent,  so  that  scarcely  any  lasting  good  has  been 
the  result.  We  have  been  grievously  deficient  in  business- 
like habits,  in  punctuality,  in  prudence,  in  avoiding  debts,  in 
the  publishing  of  accounts,  and  in  all  those  other  details  of 
action  which  cannot  be  neglected  without  chilling  the  warmth 
of  charity  in  those  who  would  be  disposed  to  give.  From 
penny  periodicals  upwards,  a  host  of  ill-considered  plans  have 
been  one  after  another  presented  to  the  Catholic  public,  of 
which  many  could  not  have  succeeded;  many  have  failed  from 
want  of  common  sense  in  their  carrying  out,  many  have  only 
partially  succeeded,  through  the  indiscretion  of  their  pro- 
moters; and  only  a  few  have  completely  realised  the  hopes 
with  which  they  were  undertaken.  The  money  we  have 
thrown  away,  the  expectations  we  have  disappointed,  the 
energies  we  have  paralysed,  and  the  charity  we  have  chilled, 
would  have  been  enough  to  have  ruined  any  cause  but  that 
of  the  Catholic  religion.  No  wonder,  therefore,  that  much 
of  our  charitable  enterprise  and  liberality  still  lies  dormant, 
and  awaits  the  touch  of  that  Ithiiriel's  spear,  which  will 
awake  it  to  life  and  action. 

Without  being  disheartened,  therefore,  because  w^e  have 
not  done  more,  and  without  undue  exultation  because  we 
have  done  so  much,  we  venture  now  to  beg  of  every  intel- 
ligent Catholic  who  has  money,  health,  leisure,  or  energies  at 
his  disposal,  to  contemplate  our  true  position;  and  to  try 
form  a  just  estimate  of  the  relative  titles  to  his  help  whi< 
are  presented  by  the  various  claims  for  aid  which  he  hes 
on  every  side. 

The  one  great  feature  of  our  present  circumstances 
England  is  the  enormous  number  of  our  poor  in  proporti( 
to  the  means  of  grace  and  instruction  which  we  have  provide 
for  them.  They  have  far  outstripped  the  advances  whi^ 
we  have  made  in  church-building,  in  school-founding,  and 
an  enlarged  supply  of  clergy  and  religious  bodies.  The  coi 
trast  between  the  proportion  of  our  clergy  to  their  flock 
seventy  years  ago,  and  the  proportion  between  pastors  am 
people  to-day,  is  so  astonishing,  so  absolutely  portentous,  tha 
we  fear  even  to  state  the  difference.  True,  we  have  buil 
colleges,  we  have  established  schools,  we  have  rebuilt  oh 
chapels  and  raised  handsome  new  churches,  we  have  multi 
plied  choirs,  high  Masses,  vestments,  and  ceremonies,  W^,, 
have  issued  tens  and  hundreds  of  thousands  of  cheap  public 
tions,  the  list  of  our  clergy  annually  increases,  and  religio^ 
orders  are  freely  scattered  over  the  country ;  but  all  this 
little^  so  long  as  it  remains  far  below  the  necessities  of  t^ 
times;  and  it  is  still  less  when  much  that  has  been  doi 


Shams  and  Realities,  2X9 

tends  to  hide  the  wounds  in  our  body  politic  rather  than  to 
heal  them. 

It  has  pleased  Almighty  God — and  let  not  us  who  are 
Englishmen  dare  to  wnsh  that  it  were  otherwise,  —  it  has 
pleased  Ahnighty  God  to  bring  over  an  army  of  destitute 
poor  Catholics  to  our  shores.  We  were  not  prepared  for 
them.  It  cannot  be  said  that  it  was  our  duty  to  be  prepared 
for  them,  for  we  could  not  search  into  futurity.  But  surely  it 
is  our  duty  to  strain  every  nerve  to  save  them  from  misery, 
and  sin,  and  hopeless  apostasy,  now  that  they  are  here. 
Whether  it  was  the  fault  of  English  legislation  or  no,  that 
they  were  forced  to  fly  from  their  native  Ireland,  and  whether 
or  no  we  English  Catholics  are  in  any  way  responsible  for 
the  misconduct  of  our  English  Protestant  fellow-countrymen, 
our  duty  noiv  is  the  same.  For  many  generations  we  were 
called  to  suffer  :  at  present,  the  sufferings  of  most  English 
Catholics,  except  the  poor,  are  more  nominal  than  real ;  but 
with  the  time  of  prosperity  our  Blessed  Lord  comes  to  us 
Himself i  in  the  person  of  His  poor.  He  told  us,  eighteen 
hundred  years  ago,  that  the  poor  should  always  be  in  the 
Church ;  and  in  this  our  season  of  rest  from  persecution,  lest 
we  should  forget  Him  in  the  multiplication  of  our  means  of 
grace,  and  in  the  splendours  of  our  renewed  freedom,  He 
vouchsafes  His  presence  in  the  persons  of  those  whom  He 
designed  to  be  His  especial  representatives  as  long  as  the 
world  shall  endure. 

Without  pretending,  therefore,  to  lay  down  any  rules  un- 
fitted for  general  use,  or  unbecoming  as  proceeding  from  such 
a  source  as  ourselves,  we  cannot  forbear  urging  upon  every 
true-hearted  Catholic  this  one  palpable  truth :  that  the  supply 
of  adequate  spiritual  and  corporal  aids  for  our  innumerable 
poor  is  an  object  which  ought  not  to  be  lost  sight  of  for  a 
single  moment,  whatever  be  our  other  efforts  for  the  advance 
of  religion.  Every  man's  first  duty  is  his  own  salvation  ;  but 
next  to  this,  surely  it  is  not  too  much  to  allege  that  it  should 
be  to  aid,  according  to  his  circumstances,  those  who  are  most 
in  need,  and  who  cannot  help  themselves. 

Nor  do  we  put  forth  any  thing  so  extravagant,  as  the 
notion  that  every  body's  gifts  and  labours  ought  to  take  one 
and  the  same  direction.  The  natural  tastes  and  characters  of 
men  and  women  are  various ;  they  cannot  all  see  things  in  the 
same  light;  they  cannot  all  regard  one  particular  duty  as 
paramount  over  others.  To  attempt  to  force  the  purer 
feelings  of  every  Christian  heart  into  one  channel,  however 
broad  it  be,  would  be  to  defeat  our  object;  just  as  it  would 
be  ridiculous  to   strain  the   daily  life  of  average  Christians 

VOL.  I. NEW  SERIES.  R 


220  Shams  and  Realities, 

living  in  the  world  to  the  high  standard  of  devotion  which  is 
the  actual  duty  of  a  professed  religious.     It  is  futile  to  tell 
people  that  nothing  ought  to  be  done  till  this  one  particular 
thing,  which  we  ourselves  may  happen  to  have  in  hand,  is 
done.     There  are  innumerable  outlets  for  Christian  charity, 
and  innumerable  paths  for  the  zealous  labourer  to  tread,  not 
one  of  which  can  be  safely  neglected,  or  which  it  would  be 
right  to  decry.    When,  then,  we  speak  of  the  condition  of  the 
Catholic  poor  in  our  great  cities  as  the  question  of  our  times, 
we  do  not  mean  to  cast  the  faintest  slur  on  those  who  really 
cannot  bring  themselves  to  feel  the  same  interest  in  it  as  we 
see  that  it  deserves.     Doubtless  there  is  a  certain  sense  in 
which  different  persons  may  be  said  to  have  different  vocations 
for  serving  God  and  their  fellow-creatures  ;  and  every  man 
should  seek  to  follow  out  such  a  calling  with  zeal  and  single- 
mindedness.     One  of  us  feels  called  to  support  the  cause  of 
Catholic  literature;   another  that  of  Christian  architecture; 
another's  labours  are  devoted  to  vestments,  decorations,  or  to 
the  multiplication  of  pictures  and  images ;  another  loves  semi- 
naries and  colleges ;  another  finds  himself  at  home  in  political 
labours.    All  these  things  are  good  and  to  be  loved,  and  those 
who  cultivate  them  are  to  be  honoured.     But  nevertheless,  as 
every  age  has  its  own  peculiar  advantages  and  opportunities, 
so  also  it  has  its  own  snares  ;  and  it  will  be  no  disparagement 
to  any  one  good  work  of  any  kind,  if  we  urge  that  a  day  of 
sudden  prosperity  necessarily  brings  with  it  a  temptation  to 
overrate  the  advantages  of  what  may  be  called  spiritual  luxu-  . 
ries,  and   to  forget  those  terrible  realities  of  sin  and  sorro\\ 
which  are  not  forced  upon  our  own  daily  personal  observation. 
It  is  the  same  with  persons  who  are  converts  from  Protes- 
tantism, with  its  meagre  and  barren  ceremonies,  its  dry  devo- 
tions, its  stiff  formalities  of  thought  and  language,  and  its  ab- 
horrence of  images,   pictures,    incense,  beads,    and   medals. 
Those  who  leave  that  desert  land,  and  enter  the  garden   of 
Eden,  are  at  times  tempted  to  inhale  too  fondly  the  sweel 
odours  that  breathe  in  every  gale,  to  linger  too  lazily  over  th( 
flowers  that  court  their  gaze,  and  to  wander  hither  and  thither 
without  settled  purpose,  from  fountain  to  bower,  from  winding 
stream  to  dewy  glade;  forgetting  that  in  this  Eden  there  are 
rocks,  and  briers,  and  thorns,  and  weary  pilgrims  fainting  by 
the  way. 

Hence  a  certain  tendency  to  lavish  labour  and  funds  on, 
objects  in  themselves  innocent  and  praiseworthy;  but  which,- 
in  any  large  abundance,  are  scarcely  appropriate  to  an  era] 
of  struggle  and  povert}*.  Hence  an  excessive  attachment  to] 
the  adornment  of  the   externals   of  religion,  which  in  every 


Shams  and  Realities,  22\ 

•age  is  reprobated  by  saints  and  spiritual  writers  as  perni- 
cious to  the  soul ;  and  which  is  doubly  hurtful  when  it  robs 
the  poor,  who  are  so  dear  to  the  Divine  Heart  of  Jesus,  of  that 
assistance  which  would  otherwise  be  theirs.  Hence  a  too 
general  idea  among  us  that  the  chief  want  of  our  time  is  the 
erection  of  magnificent  churches;  and  that  the  "model" 
church  will  be  that  which  is  the  most  superb,  and  has  cost  (of 
course  judiciously  laid  out)  the  largest  sum  of  money.  To 
those  who  camiot  direct  their  energies  and  charities  except  in 
some  such  immediate  association  with  their  personal  interests, 
we  have  little  to  say.  If  a  man  or  woman  must  ride  a  hobby, 
it  is  much  better  that  it  should  be  a  Christian  horse  than  a 
Paqan  horse.  It  is  for  better  to  spend  thousands  in  adding  to 
the  beauties  of  the  house  of  God,  or  in  the  decorations  of 
private  oratories,  than  in  house-building,  or  on  the  turf,  or 
in  jewels  for  the  person,  or  gold  and  silver  for  the  dinner- 
table,  even  thougb  the  day  in  which  we  live  is  a  time  of  over- 
whelming spiritual  and  temporal  necessities. 

Yet  there  are  many  noble-hearted  persons  amongst  us 
whose  sole  object  is  to  do  that  which  is  most  needed.  What- 
ever their  private  likings,  whatever  the  gratification  they 
would  personally  feel  in  this  or  that  mode  of  expending  the 
money  which  they  give  to  religion,  one  absorbing  desire  reigns 
paramount  over  all.  Every  other  species  of  enjoyment  they 
gladly  postpone  till  better  times ;  and  if  such  times  never 
come  during  their  mortal  lives,  what  then  ?  Is  not  every  joy 
to  be  found  in  heaven  ?  What  is  the  most  transcendent  dis- 
play of  material  beauty  with  which  the  Church  can  clothe  her- 
self here,  in  comparison  with  the  effulgence  of  glory  which 
will  dazzle  the  soul  when  it  enters  the  New  Jerusalem  ? 
Surely  we  can  wait  in  peace  till  then,  if  it  pleases  Divine  Pro- 
\idence  to  cast  our  lot  in  a  generation  whose  duty  it  is  to 
struggle  against  poverty  and  opposition.  It  has  been  said 
that  life  is  short,  and  therefore  w^e  must  be  quick  in  reviving 
the  aesthetic  splendours  of  other  days,  lest  we  die  without 
seeing  them.  Surely  this  is  not  the  spirit  in  which  the 
Church  bids  us  work.  Life  is  short,  and  therefore  let  us  be 
content  with  our  lot,  whatever  it  be ;  seeking  to  know  that 
particular  work  which  God  has  called  us  to  accomplish,  and 
doing  it  with  a  single  and  unselfish  eye;  and  enjoying  in  anti- 
cipation only  the  restoration  of  an  epoch  of  temporal  magni- 
ficence, to  be  beheld  by  our  children  as  the  result  of  our 
labours. 

Let  us,  then,  fix  our  eyes  on  the  condition  of  our  own 
poor  in  the  large  towns  of  England,  Scotland,  and  Wales. 
When  we  can  convert  Protestants,  by  all  means  let  us  strive. 


Shams  and  Realities, 

to  do  it.  But  when  a  free  choice  is  granted  us,  when  neither 
local  claims  nor  personal  interests  guide  us  in  any  other  path 
of  action,  does  not  every  principle  of  Christian  charity,  truth, 
and  justice,  direct  us  first  to  those  who  are  Catholics  already, 
but  whom  the  world  and  the  devil  are  struggling  to  seize  for 
their  own  ?  Is  it  a  zeal  for  Christ,  or  a  spirit  of  proselytism, 
which  animates  our  hearts  ?  Do  we  want  souls,  or  do  we  want 
to  increase  our  party  in  the  state  ?  Do  we  desire  a  reward 
in  heaven,  or  the  tclat  of  an  accession  of  '^  distinguished  con- 
verts ?"  If  we  indeed  desire  the  conversion  of  England  from 
pure  Christian  motives,  we  can  only  desire  it  in  the  order  of 
God's  providence  and  grace ;  and  is  it  not  a  mockery  to 
forget  our  own  brothers  and  children  for  the  alien  and  the 
stranger  ?  Have  we  not  cause  to  fear  that  one  reason  why  i 
we  have  as  yet  done  so  little  in  converting  Protestants,  is  I 
our  neglect  of  those  who  are  Catholics  already;  and  who,  for 
no  fault  of  their  own,  are  plunged  in  the  bitterest  suffering 
which  can  try  the  patience  and  tempt  the  faith  of  the  soul  of 
man  ?  What  is  the  use  of  praying  for  the  conversion  of  peers, 
and  bishops,  and  lawyers,  and  merchants,  when  we  are  for- 
getting our  first  duties  to  our  fellow-Christians  ?  When 
Almighty  God  gives  a  man  a  work  to  do,  what  right  has  he 
to  shut  his  eyes  to  that  work,  and  gaze  away  into  the  distance 
at  some  glorious  prospect,  and  content  himself  with  praying 
for  its  supernatural  approach,  while  the  work  which  ought  to 
be  done  to-day  is  half  neglected  or  altogether  forgotten  ?  We 
may  rest  assured  that  the  golden  maxim  of  the  spiritual  life  m 
holds  good  in  the  work  of  the  conversion  of  England,  as  well  * 
as  in  our  secret  daily  trials ;  we  are  to  do  the  will  of  God  to- 
day, this  hour,  this  moment,  and  leave  the  future  to  Him.  x 
When  fresh  temptations  come,  fresh  grace  will  come  also.  J 
When  our  sorrows  are  multiplied,  so  also  will  be  our  strength 
and  consolations.  And  thus,  when  we  have  done  our  duty  in 
London,  Liverpool,  Manchester,  Glasgow,  and  the  many  other 
places  where  the  Irish  and  English  Catholic  poor  are  known 
only  to  the  few, — who  learn  their  numbers  and  their  miseries 
only  to  recognise  the  impossibility  of  aiding  them, — thus,  when 
the  work  of  to-day  is  done,  we  may  hope  to  see  the  veil  begin 
to  drop  from  the  eyes  of  English  Protestants,  while  their 
hearts  arc  touched  with  a  fire  that  nothing  noio  can  kindle  in 
them. 

We  entreat  our  readers  not  to  take  all  this  for  the  exagge- 
rations of  rhetoric,  or  the  extravagances  of  persons  who  wish 
to  make  out  a  case.  If  they  could  see  the  facts  with  their 
own  eyes,  they  would  learn  that  no  language  can  paint  the 
dark  and  awful  realities  as  they  exist  at  this  hour.     Let  any 


Shams  and  Realities,  22S 

one  who  wishes  to  ascertain  the  truth  select  some  priest  with 
whose  zeal  for  the  poor  they  are  well  acquainted^  and  who  has 
sufficient  opportunities  for  learning  the  state  of  our  populous 
towns.  Let  him  inquire  how  they  live,  and  who  teaches  their 
children ;  where  they  go  to  Mass,  who  hears  their  confessions, 
who  relieves  them  in  sickness,  who  consoles  their  death-beds. 
Let  him  ask  where  they  live,  where  they  sleep,  where  they 
inhale  poison  with  their  every  breatli.  The  daily  newspapers 
tell  a  tale  which  indicates  a  condition  of  things  too  dreadful  to 
contemplate.  Read  the  police-reports,  and  observe  what  a 
frightful  proportion  there  is  of  L'ish  names  and  Irish-born 
Catholics,  now  degraded  to  the  lowest  state  of  brutality,  so 
tliat  one  sickens  to  read  of  the  ferocious  crimes  of  which  they 
are  incessantly  guilty.  Or  ask  those  who  are  familiar  with 
sins  of  lost  women  in  our  cities.  Is  it  possible  that  of  those 
miserable  unfortunates,  hundreds  and  thousands  were  born 
and  nurtured  in  Catholic  Ireland,  one  of  the  most  chaste  king- 
doms on  the  face  of  the  globe  ?  Why  are  these  things  so  ? 
These  people  were  not  so  at  home.  Their  fathers  and  mothers 
were  never  such.  They  have  fallen  to  the  lowest  depths, 
because  when  the  hand  of  God  smote  their  homes  they  fled 
here,  and  we  have  had  no  work  for  them  to  do,  no  lodgings  fit 
for  Christian  beings  to  house  them,  no  friends  to  take  them 
by  the  hand,  no  schools  for  their  children,  no  churches  for 
them  to  assemble  in,  and  no  priests  to  be  the  guardians  of 
their  souls.  The  staff  of  our  clergy,  and  the  accommodation 
of  our  churches  and  schools,  is  utterly  inadequate  to  their 
necessities;  and  these  necessities  are  not  one  whit  diminishing 
as  years  go  by ;  they  are  even  increasing,  and  daily  growing 
more  disastrous  and  appalling  in  their  consequences.  A  series 
of  statements  which  hcive  recently  appeared  in  the  Catholic 
journals  from  the  pen  of  the  Rev.  John  Kyne,  of  Clerkenwell, 
has  opened  many  eyes  to  some  few  facts  in  the  condition  of 
our  poor.  No  man  in  England  knows  the  poor  better  than 
Mr.  Kyne,  and  we  apprehend  that  no  man  is  more  loved  by 
them  than  he  is.  The  facts  he  has  given  have  astonished 
many  of  us,  and  struck  us  with  horror ;  but  his  pictures  are 
only  illustrations  of  a  social  state  which  prevails  to  an  extent 
absolutely  awful,  and  which  is  tending  to  become  a  normal 
state  every  day  that  it  is  suffered  to  continue  unchecked.* 

What  avails  it,  then,  to  boast  of  our  acquisitions,  to  won- 
der why  Protestants  are  bigoted  and  unreasonable,  to  rear  a 
few  splendid  fabrics,  to  expend  thousands  and  tens  of  thou- 
sands in  the  adornment  of  religion  for  our  own  personal  de- 

*  A  short  statement  from  Mr.  Kyne  among  our  Advertisements  gives  a  few 
facts  to  which  we  beg  particular  attention. 


224  Shams  and  Realities, 

light,  while  those  who  are  first  in  the  sight  of  our  common 
Saviour  are  last  in  our  eyes  ?  Is  this  a  day  for  boasting,  for 
aesthetic  luxuries,  for  the  calm  repose  of  a  Catholic  era,  when 
the  poor  are  huddled  together  in  garrets  and  cellars  unfit  for 
swine  to  herd  in,  when  their  little  ones  are  forced  to  hunt  for 
garbage  in  the  streets  to  hold  soul  and  body  together,  when 
they  never  can  enter  a  school,  or  hear  Mass,  or  go  to  confes- 
sion, from  Easter  to  Easter ;  when  the  neglect  of  these  duties 
leads  the  men  to  the  gin-shop,  the  penny  gaff,  the  police-court, 
the  gaol,  and  the  gallows,  and,  in  conjunction  with  actual 
starvation,  drives  the  pure-minded  girls  of  Ireland  on  to  the 
midnight  pavement,  into  the  den  of  infamy,  where  the  mise- 
ries of  bodily  suffering  and  the  agonies  of  a  revolting  con- 
science prepare  them,  not  for  repentance,  for  there  are  none 
to  guide  them,  but  for  the  undying  worm  and  the  unquench- 
able fire  ? 

Surely,  w-hen  the  wealthy  English  Catholic  has  satisfied 
the  claims,  the  actual  necessities  of  his  own  neighbourhood 
and  personal  ties,  his  first  duty  is  to  provide  niam/  churches, 
many  schools,  7Jiani/  clerg}^,  and  many  schoolmasters  for  the  . 
Catholic  poor.  We  must  remember  that  this  is  still  a  mis- 
sionary age.  The  establishment  of  the  hierarchy  has  only 
substituted  missionary  bishops  for  missionary  vicars-apostolic. 
It  is  not  yet  time  to  sit  down  and  take  our  ease.  There  is  an 
inroad  to  make  into  the  ranks  of  sin  and  misery  in  the  very 
fold  of  Christ  itself.  We  want  buildings  of  moderate  size, 
such  as  can  be  served  by  a  couple  of  active  priests,  simple,, 
though  ecclesiastical  in  their  structure,  planted  in  the  very 
midst  of  our  poor  population.  We  must  go  to  these  children 
of  poverty,  and  find  tiiem  out;  and  not  leave  them  to  come  to 
us.  They  are  timid,  scared,  puzzled  by  English  ways,  Eng- 
lish manners,  English  coldness,  and  English  severity'.  They  ^ 
are  ashamed  of  their  misery,  their  rags,  their  ignorance,  of  ■ 
their  very  words  and  pronunciation.  They  have  their  faults, 
their  infirmities,  and,  too  soon  after  their  arrival,  their  terrible 
sins.  But  they  are  our  brothers  in  Christ ;  they  have  the 
faith ;  they  have  often  a  faith,  a  simplicity,  a  purity,  a  devo- 
tedness,  a  cordiality  of  soul,  which  shame  us  who  have  every 
aid  and  appliance  to  devotion,  and  who  are  annoyed  by  their 
weaknesses,  and  provoked  by  their  defects. 

Many  things  are  wanted  before  all  is  done  that  ought  to 
be  done  for  our  poor ;  but  the  first  thing,  we  apprehend, 
ought  to  be  the  planting  churches  and  clergy  in  the  hearts  of 
the  neighbourhoods  where  they  are  thronging  in  multitudes. 
Without  the  presence  and  daily  ministrations  of  a  priest,  it  is 
almost  impossible  to  retain  that  hold  upon  the  poor  in  their 


Shams  and  Realities,  225. 

seasons  of  peril,  which,  when  once  lost,  it  is  so  difficult  to  re- 
gain. The  attachment  of  the  Irish  to  the  Catholic  clergy  is 
extreme,  even  to  a  proverb.  It  amounts  at  times  almost  to  a 
superstition ;  but  whether  a  superstition  or  no,  it  may  be 
employed  to  such  happy  results,  that  it  were  the  worst  of 
follies  to  neglect  to  turn  it  to  good  account. 

Nor  can  we,  who  are  in  better  worldly  circumstances, 
easily  estimate  the  blessing  which  a  church  is  to  the  poor. 
It  is  every  thing  to  them.  We  have  our  comfortable  homes, 
our  warm  firesides,  our  well-lighted  tables,  our  regular  meals, 
our  silent  chambers  when  we  need  repose  of  mind  or  of 
body,  the  society  of  our  friends  when  we  are  disposed  to  dul- 
ness,  books  to  amuse  and  instruct  us,  newspapers  and  perio- 
dicals to  tell  us  how  the  world  goes,  places  of  recreation  of 
all  sorts  when  we  v;ant  gaiety,  aids  to  devotion  in  the  shape 
of  manuals,  oratories,  pictures,  and  images, — till  we  become 
positively  spiritual  epicures;  we  possess  every  thing,  in  fact, 
which  can  amuse  and  comfort  the  mind  in  its  course  through 
the  trials  of  this  life.  But  the  poor  man  has  no  home,  no 
solitude,  no  innocent  amusements,  no  books,  no  friendly  so- 
ciety, no  rest  from  the  terrible  thought — how  to  live  from 
day  to  day;  the  bodily  senses,  which,  in  our  case,  are  the 
channels  by  which  a  thousand  luxuries  are  conveyed  to  the 
mind,  are  with  him  so  many  channels  of  distress  and  suffer- 
ing. Foul  odours,  hideous  sights,  miserable  food,  sounds  of 
complaint,  of  anguish,  and  of  sin,  the  damp  floor,  and  the 
crowded  mattrass  or  heap  of  straw, — these  are  his  daily  and 
nightly  companions,  which  make  his  life  one  ceaseless  struggle 
and  sorrow. 

To  him,  therefore,  the  humblest  building  which  looks  like 
a  church,  and  is  free  from  the  pestilential  sights,  sounds,  and 
smells  which  afflict  him  in  his  "  home,"  is  like  a  paradise  on 
earth.  He  comes  not  to  criticise,  but  to  enjoy ;  not  to  be 
wearied,  but  to  rest.  The  simplest  pictures,  the  commonest 
images,  the  most  unpretending  singing,  the  plainest  sermons, 
— so  that  all  be  genuine,  hearty.  Catholic,  and  freely  acces- 
sible,— are  to  him  like  glimpses  of  another  world.  He  turns 
his  weary  steps  there  for  an  hour's  repose,  for  a  few  moments' 
change  from  the  sights  of  sin  and  distress  which  meet  him  in 
the  world  outside ;  he  feels,  as  he  kneels  before  Jesus  cruci- 
fied, the  true  nature  and  blessedness  of  that  cross  which  he 
has  to  carry  so  wearily  ;  he  looks  at  the  fair  face  of  Mary,  and 
is  comforted  at  the  thought  of  that  tender-hearted  Mother, 
who  remembers  him  when  all  friends  on  earth  are  failing. 
He  can  struggle  on  now  with  a  better  heart ;  he  can  pass  the 
gin-palace  without  entering  ;  he  can  abstain  from  the  crimes 


226  Shams  and  Realities, 


1 


of  his  neighbours  and  companions,  for  the  sake  of  that  heaven 
which  his  church  pictures  to  his  eyes ;  he  is  more  open  to  the 
words  of  his  priest  than  to  those  of  the  tempter ;  after  all,  he 
is  conscious  that  he  is  not  quite  forgotten  among  men. 

While,  then,  we  do  not  presume  to  find  any  fault  with 
those  modes  of  doing  good,  which  persons  in  various  circum- 
stances and  of  various  personal  inclinations  find  most  con- 
genial to  their  minds,  we  do  not  hesitate  to  suggest  to  those 
who  have  no  such  preferences,  the  paramount  importance  of 
meeting  the  necessities  of  the  day  in  some  such  ways  as  are 
here  described.     To  every  Catholic  who  has  a  sovereign,  or  a 
twenty-pound  note,  or  a  thousand  pounds,  or  any  sum,  however 
large,  to  bestow,  and  whose  only  wish  is  to  turn  it  to  the  best  , 
account,  we  would  say,  find  out  some  place  where  it  will  be  B 
applied  for  the  immediate  supply  of  the  great  want  of  the  " 
hour.     There  are  many  such  places,  though  they  do  not  make 
so  much  noise  in  the  newspapers,  or  beg  so  importunately  as 
other  spots  with  far  weaker  claims.     We  have  already  men- 
tioned Mr.  Kyne's  letters  on  behalf  of  the  Catholic  poor.    He 
is  now  building  a  church  and  schools  in  one  of  the  most  neces- 
sitous and  crowded  parts  of  London  ;  and  he  has  called  them 
very  appropriately  the  church  and  schools  of  the  Holy  Family.  . 
They  are  rapidly  advancing  to  completion,  and  will  cost  a  sum.  H 
astonishingly  low,  not  much  more  than  2,000/. ;  so  that  here,  * 
at  any  rate,  there  will  be  no  needless  outlay.     May  we  hope 
that  our  feeble  words  will  bring  Mr.  Kyne  some  substantial 
aid  to  his  laborious  task ;  undertaken,  let  us  add,  in  addition 
to  toils  for  the  poor  which  would  frighten  men  with  a  less 
undaunted  and  devoted  spirit ! 

But  the  metropolis  and  our  other  huge  cities  are  not  the 
only  places  where  such  aid  is  needed.  There  are  localities  in 
the  country  which  in  some  respects  it  is  almost  more  neces- 
sary to  aid,  because  they  are  less  known;  their  only  Catholic 
inhabitants  being  a  multitude  of  the  extreme  poor.  We 
name  one  as  an  instance,  whose  circumstances  have  almost  m 
accidentally  come  to  our  knowledge, — the  Mission  of  Wed-  * 
nesbury.  This  is  one  of  those  places  where  the  sky  of  heaven 
is  ever  murky  by  day,  and  black  at  night;  the  earth  below 
little  better  than  a  heap  of  ashes,  lightened  night  and  day 
together  with  the  fires  of  never-extinguished  furnaces.  An 
immense  population,  nearly  40,000  in  number,  crowds  the 
soil ;  nearly  all  are  poor;  and  of  these,  amongst  the  poorest  of 
the  poor,  there  are  not  less  than  3000  Catholics,  chiefly  la- 
bourers from  the  rudest  parts  of  Connaught.  Eighteen 
months  ago  a  Mission  was  established  among  them,  to  save 
their  souls  from  the  overpowering  evil  influences  with  which 


I 


Shams  and  Realities.  2S7 

they  were  surrouncled.  Since  that  time  as  many  its  three 
hundred  adult  Irish  have — not  returned  to  their  duties,  but 
made  their^rs^  communion  ;  and  thirty  English  converts  have 
been  received.  Last  August  nearly  two  hundred  persons  were 
confirmed,  of  whom  one  hundred  and  fifty  were  adult  Irish 
from  Connaught.  There  remain  two  hundred  Catholic  adults 
unconfirmed,  the  births  among  the  Catholics  are  about  one 
fer  diem;  while  every  day  more  Irish,  unconfessed,  uncon- 
firmed, and  uncommunicated,  are  crowding  in,  with  English 
poor  applying  for  instruction.  Mr.  Montgomery,  the  priest 
whom  Almighty  God  has  blessed  with  these  results,  has  given 
up  every  thing  of  his  own  towards  the  establishment  of  the 
Mission  ;  devoting  to  it  the  whole  of  his  private  fortune,  which 
produced  him  80/.  a-year :  in  Ireland  he  has  collected  350/., 
in  England  450/. ;  and  of  those  who  have  thus  helped  him,  hy 
far  the  greater  number  are  English  and  Irish  priests.  In 
answer  to  an  inquiry  we  lately  made,  he  says :  "  I  have  at 
this  moment  just  one  shilling  and  tenpence  in  m}"  possession." 
He  owes  hundreds  of  pounds,  incurred  under  the  pressure  of 
demands  which  few  or  none  could  have  resisted,  with  all  their 
horror  of  debt;  but  the  money  was  borrowed  for  the  barest 
necessaries  of  a  Catholic  Mission.  Of  course,  he  is  fettered 
by  the  want  of  a  larger  church,  of  a  second  school-room  (into 
which  the  present  chapel  might  be  converted),  and  a  convent 
of  nuns. 

Surely  such  a  work  as  this  needs  no  puffing,  no  raffles  to 
tempt  those  who  must  be  cheated  into  liberality,  no  dinners, 
at  which  the  bottle  and  the  subscription-list  go  the  round  of 
the  company  together,  no  fancy-fairs  or  fancy-balls,  at  which 
young  ladies  are  permitted  the  flirtations  which  the  papas  and 
mamas  would  not  tolerate  any  where  but  at  a  charity  fair  or  a 
charity  ball.  Let  us  trust  that  this  bare  statement  of  facts 
will  procure  from  some  of  those  who  are  intrusted  with  the 
possession  of  large  incomes,  such  ready  contributions  as  will 
not  only  relieve  the  zealous  priest  we  have  spoken  of  from 
the  wearing  pressure  of  debt,  but  enable  him  to  extend  to 
others  the  blessings  which  God  has  made  him  the  instrument 
of  already  communicating  to  so  many  of  our  poor  fellow- 
Christians.* 

•  As  Mr.  Montgomery's  name  is  altogether  omitted  from  the  List  of  Clergy 
in  one  of  our  veracious  Directories  (the  Metropolitan  and  Provincial),  it  may 
be  as  well  to  add  that  his  address  is  "  The  Reverend  George  Montgomery,  Wed- 
nesbury,  Staffordshire."  We  also  beg  our  readers'  attention  to  an  appeal  from 
the  Rev.  Messrs.  Oakeley  &  Dolan,  which  appears  among  our  advertisements, 
and  which  we  regret  reached  us  too  late  for  more  than  this  brief  notice.  Its 
claims,  however,  need  no  recommendation  ;  their  urgency  is  extreme. 


228 


THE  TURKS  AND  THE  CHRISTIANS  IN  ALBANIA. 

BY  AN    EYE-WITNESS.* 

We  have  lately  returned  from  a  tour  of  some  duration  in 
Albania,  a  province  of  European  Turkey  extending  along  the 
coast  of  the  Adriatic,  opposite  tlie  shores  of  southern  Italy, 
from  the  Austrian  province  of  Dalmatia,  and  the  confines  of 
Montenegro,  to  the  borders  of  Greece  below  Corfu, — a  country 
of  which  Gibbon  remarked,  that  *'  though  within  sight  of  the 
shores  of  Italy,  it  was  less  known  than  the  interior  of  America.*! 
Its  inhabitants,  lying  between  the  Slaves  and  the  Greeks,  are 
a  distinct  race,  speaking  a  peculiar  language  of  their  own, 
which  the  late  Cardinal  Mezzofanti  pronounced  to  have  no 
resemblance  to  any  other  European  tongue.  They  are  cele- 
brated both  for  beauty  of  feature  and  for  picturesqueness  of 
costume  ;  and  in  the  fifteenth  century  won  a  high  renown  for 
the  bravery  with  which,  under  their  Castriott  princes,  they  so 
long  resisted  the  whole  strength  of  the  Ottoman  empire,  then 
at  its  zenith.  At  the  present  time  they  make  superior  soldiers, 
and  exhibit  also  a  great  disposition  for  commercial  speculation ; 
in  which  they  embark  with  great  eagerness  whenever  they  can 
procure  a  capital,  however  small, — no  easy  matter  under 
Turkish  rule. 

About  two-thirds  of  the  Albanians  remain  Catholics,  and 
their  country  is  still  divided  into  its  seven  ancient  bishoprics; 
their  spiritual  w^ants  being  supplied — as  far  as  the  persecuting 
spirit  of  the  Mahometan  government  permits — by  means  of 
missionary  bishops  and  priests,  chiefly  of  the  order  of  St.  Fran- 
cis, sent  by  the  Propaganda,  and  residing  in  the  country  under 
the  protection  of  Austria.  We  say  so  far  as  Turkish  tiiU 
permits  ;  for  the  Turk  is  essentially  a  persecutor  of  Christians; 
and  besides  treating  them  as  slaves,  making  them  pay  a  de- 
grading tribute,  not  admitting  their  evidence  in  courts  oi 
justice,  &c.,  he  has  hitherto  allowed  no  building  worthy  to  be 
called  a  church  to  be  erected  for  the  purposes  of  Christian 
worship,  even  in  any  of  tlie  principal  towns.  At  Antivari 
a  place  of  some  thousand  inhabitants,  no  Christian  is  allowefi 
to  live  within  the  walls;  and  at  Skutari,  the  residence  of  tli 
Pasha,  or  governor  of  the  district,  and  containing  pcrlu 

*  It  is  due  to  the  writer  of  the  following  article  to  state  that  he  is  at 
moment,  and  has  been  for  some  time  past,  resident  in  Gorizia;  so  that  any  co 
cidences  which  may  be  detected  between  his  views  and  those  advocated  in 
Lectures  on  the  History  of  the  Turks,  recently  published  by  the  author  of 
and  (j!ain,dXQ  fortuitous,  or  rather  are  the  result  of  original  observation,  and 
in  fact,  the  testimony  of  an  independent  witness. 


The  Turks  and  the  Christians  in  Albania.  229 

8,000  souls,  the  great  majority  of  whom  are  Christians,  the 
nly  place  for  Christian  worship  is  a  very  small  room,  or  chapel, 
carcely  large  enough  to  cover  more  than  the  altar  and  the 
ministering  priest,  within  the  bishop's  own  garden,  wherein 
he  poor  people  assemble  in  large  numbers  on  a  Sunday  morn- 
ng,  exposed  to  all  the  vicissitudes  of  the  weather.  The  re- 
naining  one-third  of  the  population  are  Mahometans,  at  least 
)y  profession ;  with  a  few  Greeks,  however,  chiefly  on  the 
Vlontenegrine  and  Dalmatian  borders. 

The  country  is  romantically  beautiful,  and  well  merits  to 
)e  visited  by  travellers  of  enterprise.  The  highly-coloured 
nountains,  the  extensive  lake  of  Skutari,  studded  with  islets 
overgrown  with  wild  fruit-trees,  the  green  cliffs  of  the  sea- 
loast,  crowned  here  and  there  with  the  ruins  of  an  old  town 
ind  its  fortresses,  or  a  strong  convent,  left  just  as  when  they 
,vere  blown  up  by  the  Turks  400  years  ago,  the  rich  though 
mcultivated  plains  overspread  with  pomegranates,  myrtles, 
md  arbutus,  the  fine  wooded  hills  abounding  in  game,*  the 
nelancholy  khan  or  han,  for  the  reception  of  travellers,  on  the 
sea-shore  or  by  the  way-side,  the  ruined  roads  of  the  middle 
iges,  and  the  picturesque  costume  of  the  Albanians  tliem- 
selves, — every  thing  is  calculated  to  excite  interest  and  admi- 
ration. On  the  other  hand,  here,  as  in  other  parts  of  Turkey, 
there  are  no  inns ;  and  the  state  of  the  roads,  ivhere  they  exist, 
is,  it  must  be  confessed,  truly  uninviting.  From  the  frontier 
to  Antivari  we  found  our  way  along  narrow  by-paths — such 
tracks  as  the  peasantry  must  needs  make  even  in  the  wildest 
countries,  to  go  to  their  fields  and  cottages,  but  here  the  best 
that  are  to  be  met  with, — along  the  beds  of  torrents  or  the 
wild  sea-coast;  not  unfrequently  having  to  wade  through  a 
river-course  up  to  the  horses'  girths,  or  flounder  through  a  sea 
of  mud  in  the  meadows,  nearly  as  deep.  Even  between  Anti- 
vari and  Skutari,  i.  e,  from  what  should  he  the  sea-port  to  a 
kind  of  metropolis  of  many  thousand  inhabitants,  more  or  less 
engaged  in  habits  of  commerce,  the  rough  and  narrow  pave, 
which  might  have  been  made  in  the  days  of  Skanderbeg,  is 
only  just  passable  on  horseback,  and  scarcely  that  without 
frequently  dismounting.  Sometimes  it  is  broken  up  and  swept 
away  for  many  hundred  yards  together ;  sometimes  it  is  over- 
grown with  trees  of  considerable  antiquity;  and  over  the 
steeper  hills  it  often  changes  into  a  rough  flight  of  steps — a 
striking  contrast  to  the  well-repaired  military  roads  of  the 
Austrian  province  of  Dalmatia ;  which  country,  nevertheless, 
in  the  general  state  of  its  improvenrient,  would  be  considered 
sufficiently  behind  most  other  parts  of  Europe.  The  truth 
*  The  pheasant  is  found  wild  in  the  southern  parts  of  Albania. 


2S0  The  Turks  and  the  Christians  in  Albania, 

is,  the  Turks  never  repair  any  thing  ;  and  their  government  is 
in  this  respect  as  in  others,  a  ruinous  system  for  the  prosperit} 
of  the  country.  In  their  towns  even  the  old  fortifications 
raised  perhaps  by  the  Venetians  and  Castriotts,  remain  jusi 
as  they  were,  notwithstanding  the  many  periods  during  theii 
occupation  when  they  have  had  occasion  to  apprehend  th( 
assault  of  enemies.  A  few  dismounted  cannon  lie  about  tlu 
dingy  battlements;  and  here  and  there  maybe  seen  some  rag 
ged  sentinels,  with  a  motley  attempt  at  European  uniform 
The  generality  of  the  soldiers  are  dressed  in  national  costume 
which  implies,  at  least,  a  sufficient  abundance  of  arms,  thougl 
of  a  quaint  fashion  little  suited  to  modern  warfare ;  for  th( 
national  costume  of  Albania  is  no  exception  to  the  genera 
rule,  viz.  that  it  is  according  to  the  fashions  of  ages  lonj 
since  past.  Indeed,  the  way  in  which  in  Albania  every  tliii 
remains  to-day  as  it  was  centuries  ago,  is  most  striking; 
Antivari,  not  only  are  there  the  old  Venetian  fortifications 
but  we  were  assured  by  others  who  knew  it  well  (for  to  ente 
ourselves,  even  the  bey  in  command,  or  local  governor,  coul( 
give  no  permission,  no  Christian  being  allowed  to  pass  th< 
gates)  that  the  streets,  the  churches  turned  into  mosques,  re 
main  the  same,  and  the  very  names  of  the  families  are  Vene 
tian,  their  unhappy  ancestors  having  become  renegades  at  th 
time  of  the  Turkish  conquest,  to  escape  expulsion  or  perhap 
death.  It  is  said  that  if  the  Turkish  authorities  are  askd 
why  they  never  repair,  they  answer,  "  To  what  purpose  ?  w 
are  strangers ;  we  come  from  afar,  and  we  are  here  to-day 
but  who  knows  if  we  shall  be  here  to-morrow  ?" 

The  moral  state  of  the  country  is  quite  in  keeping  wit! 
the  condition  of  its  buildings  and  its  roads.  The  travelle 
who  is  recommended  to  the  Turkish  authorities  has  indee 
nothing  to  fear  from  brigandage.  Amongst  the  native  inhabi 
tants  there  used  to  be  plenty  of  it  in  the  neighbourhood  c 
the  Montenegrines  before  the  spring  of  1853 ;  but  since  thei 
and  the  change  of  government  in  that  principality  from 
Vladika  to  a  prince  recognised  by  Austria  and  Russia,  thj 
has  been  put  a  stop  to ;  though  English  travellers  were  gene 
rally  respected  even  at  the  worst  of  times,  whether  in  Albani 
or  Montenegro  itself.  The  more  southern  parts  of  the  cour 
try,  however,  bear  a  worse  character.  But  it  is  amongf 
the  natives  themselves  that  we  must  look  for  exhibition 
violence.  We  have  already  mentioned  that  the  Albani 
wear  arms  as  a  part  of  their  national  costume ;  and  they 
by  no  means  worn  merely  for  ornament.  One  day,  whilst 
were  sitting,  about  mid-day,  in  a  rude  sort  of  cook's-sho 
the  bazaar  of  Skutari,  where,  towards  the  usual  dinner-h 


The  Turks  and  the  Christians  in  Albania.  231 

few  fried  iisli  and  some  brandy  were  to  be  procured,  an 
.^cer  came  from  the  bey  of  the  market-place  to  arrest  a 
lopkeeper  hard  by  for  assaulting  a  boy  who  had  been  selling 
ranges  near  his  booth,  to  tlie  injury,  as  the  owner  of  the 
ooth  considered,  of  his  own  business.  The  officer,  who  was 
nattended,  desired  the  man  to  follow  him  before  the  bey ; 
•hereupon  the  shopkeeper  coolly  drew  out  one  of  his  pistols, 
nd  challenged  the  officer,  if  he  wished  to  take  him,  to  come 
nd  fight  in  the  open  fields  hard  by ;  whither  he  immediately 
etook  himself,  leaving  the  offended  dignitary  to  return  and 
?port  progress  to  the  bey  ! 

In  fact,  for  the  poor  there  is  literally  no  justice;  it  is  all 
ought  and  sold.  The  pashas  and  beys  pay  high  prices  for 
iieir  respective  governments,  receiving  no  pay  tbemselves  ex- 
ept  what  they  get  from  the  people;  from  whom,  therefore, 
iiey  exact  the  most  they  can  in  the  way  of  bribes  and  similar 
npositions,  in  order,  first  to  indemnify,  and  then,  to  enrich 
tiemselves.  A  governor  of  Antivari,  for  instance,  who  had 
een  twice  deposed  by  means  of  certain  influences  at  Constan- 
Inople,  told  a  friend  of  ours  that  it  cost  him  the  equivalent 
f  1,200/.  sterling  to  get  himself  reinstated.  It  is  no  v^onder 
hen  that  all  justice  comes  to  be  venal,  or  at  least  is  made  as  far 
s  possible  a  means  of  gain.  Is  a  murder  committed  ? — and 
here  are  plenty  —  the  bey's  officers  go  and  seize  the  mur- 
lerer's  moveable  property,  which  is  confiscated  to  their  master  ; 
md  making  a  bonfire  of  his  house,  they  leave  the  culprit  to 
'scape  into  the  woods,  or  wherever  he  pleases. 

In  default  of  law  and  its  due  administration,  the  sliocking 
)ractice  of  revenge  is  not  unnaturally  regarded  as  a  duty  ;  even 
imongst  the  Christian  inhabitants  this  spirit  is  far  from  being 
?xtinct.  The  last  words  uttered  by  a  dying  Albanian  to  his 
5on  or  next  of  kin,  are  commonly  "  Vendicate  me ;'  and  the 
njunction  is  only  too  faithfully  obeyed  by  the  descendant,  as 
soon  as  he  finds  an  opportunity  of  killing  any  member  of  the 
family  who  did  the  injury;  and  then  they  in  their  turn  feel 
hound  by  the  same  savage  antichristian  custom.  It  is  perhaps 
only  what  must  be  expected  amongst  a  brave,  energetic  people, 
with  arms  in  their  hands,  subjected  for  ages  to  a  seini-barba- 
rian  rule ;  with  no  education,  no  schools,  no  churches,  and  no 
sort  of  effectual  administration  of  public  justice. 

All  who  profess  themselves  Christians  are,  of  course,  re- 
quired to  pay  tribute  ;  which,  however  small  the  nominal  sum, 
IS  yet  enough,  with  other  inflictions  and  in  so  poor  a  country, 
to  tempt  numbers  to  feign  themselves  Mahometans  in  order  to 
escape  it.  In  an  instance  which  sliall  be  presently  mentioned, 
this  sum  amounted  annually  to  35  piastres,  not  more  than  six 


232  The  Turks  and  the  Christians  in  Albania. 

shillings  of  our  money  ;  nevertheless  this  sum  is  a  very  heav 
burden  to  a  peasantry  who  have  literally  no  money  and  n 
means  of  procuring  any.     The  Turks  are  also  active  pre 
lytisers,  and  extremely  liberal  in  their  promises  of  good  thii 
both  here  and  hereafter,  to  the  wretched  inhabitants  of 
country,  if  they  only  will  embrace  Islamism  ;  but  no  soo. 
have    they   succeeded   in  persuading  them   really    to   abjui 
Christ,  than  they  leave  them  in  the  same  state  of  poverty  th; 
they  were  in  before.     Yet  the  poverty  of  the  country  cannc 
justly  be  attributed  to   the  want  of  industry,  certainly  not  t 
the  want  of  an  enterprising  spirit  amongst  the  Christian  popi 
lation  ;  for  many  of  them  go  even  as  far  as  from  the  neighbou: 
hood  of  Antivari  and  other  distant  towns  to  Constantinople,! 
search  of  service  in  that  great  mart  of  commerce;  and  if  t! 
are  fortunate  enough  to  obtain  it,  they  sometimes  return  h, 
after  many  years  with  their  little  savings,  hoping  to  enjc 
themselves  in  their  native  country. 

But  nothing  is  more  characteristic  of  the  state  of  the  countr 
and  the  slavery  of  the  Christians  to  their  Mahometan  lor-- 
than  the  treatment  of  their  women.     Every  one  knows  t 
the  tendency  of  the  Mahometan  law  in  this  respect  is  just  tl 
reverse  of  the  Christian;  that  while   the  latter  elevates  tl 
weaker  sex,  giving  them  equal  privileges,  and  making  them  tl 
intellectual  companions  of  their  male  relatives,  the  former  d 
grades  them  to  the  condition  of  slaves.     Now,  in  Albania  y( 
never  see  a  woman  in  the  company  of  men ;  and  when  Ji 
meet  them  alone,  on  the  road  or  in  the  field,  you  will  observe- 
for  the  poorer  women  are  not  veiled — that  they  bear  the  ii 
press  of  their  degradation  on  their  very  foreheads.    They  nm 
raise  their  eyes  from  the  ground,  but,  even  when  spoken  t( 
ply  with  a  sullen,  downcast,  and  half-averted  face.    3Iai 
gli  occhj,  said  our  guide  who  spoke  Italian,  as  we  passed 
of  whom  we  had  had  occasion  to  inquire  the  way.     It  is 
indeed,  that  in  Albania  there  is  but  little  polygamy  am< 
the  Turkish  inhabitants.    Whether  their  poverty  be  the  caf 
or  whatever  else,  so  it  is.     They  make  up  for  it,  hoVever. 
two  ways.     First,  by  divorces.     In  the  marriage-contract,  : 
more  wealthy  Turk  is  careful  to  specify  the  share  which  lu 
to  refund  of  the  marriage-portion  in  case  he  sends  away  i 
wife ;  which  he  never  fails  to  do  for  very  trifling  faults,  a 
often  for  none  at  all.    When  we  were  in  the  country,  an  i 
stance  of  this  had  recently  occurred  in  the  case  of  a  b« 
one  of  the  second-rate  towns,  conspicuous  for  his  aflabilityj 
friendliness  to  strangers.     He  had  been  married  some  nil 
ten  years  to  his  wife,  who  was  the  mother  of  his  eldest  s( 
fine  boy,  of  whom  he  appeared  to  be  both  proud  and  ' 


mm 

1 

caP 


JVie  Turks  and  the  Christians  in  Albania,  2SS 

One  day  he  sent  the  mother  a  bill  of  divorce  without  even  the 
shadow  of  a  pretext.  The  lady  happened  to  be  acquainted 
with  the  wife  of  the  neighbouring  Austrian  consul,  who  had 
long  resided  there,  and  for  whom,  as  a  person  of  much  merit, 
the  bey  used  to  express  great  esteem.  His  divorced  wife, 
therefore,  had  recourse  to  this  friend  in  her  distress,  and 
begged  her  to  intercede  with  her  husband.  She  did  so  ;  but 
the  answer  she  received  from  the  barbarian  was  characteristic: 
'•  To  please  you,  madam,"  he  said,  "  I  will  take  another  wife ; 
but  nothing  shall  ever  induce  me  to  have  her  again."  Indeed, 
when  the  charms  of  personal  beauty  are  passed  away,  what 
bond  of  union  remains  ?  The  women  have  no  pursuits  in  com- 
mon with  their  husbands,  and  are  quite  without  education. 
Even  the  Turkish  gentleman  of  rank  can  often  scarcely  read 
or  write  ;  and  a  Turkish  lady  despises  all  those  graceful  occu- 
pations which  we  regard  as  well  nigh  essential  to  the  sex. 

The  second  means  adopted  by  the  Turks  of  Albania  in 
order  to  mitigate  the  inconveniences  of  monogamy,  is  the  prac- 
tice of  concubinage.  Too  often,  it  is  to  be  feared.  Christian 
fathers  are  (we  may  say)  compelled  to  give  up  their  daughters 
for  this  purpose  ;  *  and,  what  is  yet  more  horrible,  in  order  to 
avoid  the  expense  and  trouble  of  bringing  up  the  children,  the 
fruits  of  this  illicit  intercourse,  they  are  commonly  destroyed, 
before  or  after  birth,  and  buried  secretly  for  fear  of  the  '^re- 
venge." We  were  assured  by  a  missionary  living  in  Albania, 
that  to  drown  these  unfortunate  infants  (of  course,  unbaptised) 
is  a  common  practice,  instances  of  which  had  often  come  to  his 
own  knowledge;  and  that,  where  other  means  have  riot  been  at 
hand,  the  Turkish  father  has  himself  killed  his  own  child  in  the 
presence,  and  torn  from  the  bosom  of,  the  wretched  mother ! 
Nevertheless,  there  is  no  redress  for  these  crying  evils.  The 
judge  is  venal, — perhaps  is  himself  the  offender.  The  rajah 
or  Christian  subject  of  the  sultan  is  a  slave,  and  cannot  help 
himself;  his  oath  is  of  no  avail.  A  poor  man  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  the  missionary  just  mentioned,  was  obliged  to  give 
up  his  ox  to  the  bey,  merely  because  the  bey  had  taken  a  fancy 
to  it.  Had  he  refused,  he  would  have  been  cast  into  prison, 
— a  dungeon  below  the  bey's  own  house,  so  foul,  that  another 
Christian  who  had  been  confined  there  for  arrears  of  tribute 
which  he  was  utterly  unable  to  pay,  declared  that  he  could 
scarcely  drink  the  coffee  which  they  brought  to  him,  before  the 
rats  and  mice,  which  "  leaped  on  him  from  the  walls  and  ceil- 
ing," dashed  it  from  his  very  hands. 

Cases  of  this  sort  in  Bosnia  have  been  constantly  reported  by  the  corres- 
i'vjudents  of  the  South  Austrian  press,  and  they  are  generally  believed  to  be 
genuine. 


^34?  The  Turks  and  the  Christians  in  Albania, 

As  regards  converts  to  Christianity,  it  is  well  known  that 
their  lives  are  forfeited;  and  if  they  are  not  always  actually 
beheaded  (as  was  the  case  at  Adrianople,  lately  mentioned  in 
the  papers),  their  escape  is  an  irregularity,  and  contrary  to  the 
Turkish  law.  We  will  mention,  in  illustration  of  this  state- 
men  t,  the  history  of  two  Albanians  who  were  regarded  in  this 
light  at  Skutari.  The  history  was  told  us  by  the  English  con- 
sul, in  the  presence  of  the  Catholic  bishop,  and  was  afterwards 
confirmed  by  the  Austrian  consul.  First,  however,  it  is  neces- 
sary to  explain,  that  owing  to  the  pressure  of  heavy  exactions 
on  the  poverty  of  the  Albanians,  there  are  at  the  present  day, 
as  there  have  always  been,  a  number  of  *'  occult  Christians," 
as  they  are  called, —  i.  e.  individuals  or  families  who  secretly 
believe  the  Christian  faith,  and  procure  the  sacrament  of  bap- 
tism for  their  children ;  but  who  in  public  wear  the  dress,  and 
observe  many  of  the  practices,  of  the  followers  of  Mahomet. 
Some  of  these  families  are  said  to  have  continued  this  disguise 
ever  since  the  days  of  Skanderbeg.  It  was  to  a  family  of  this 
kind  that  the  hero  of  our  narrative  belonged, — a  peasant  named 
George  Craini,  of  the  diocese  of  Zadrima,  and  his  niece  An- 
tonia  Craini,  an  orphan,  whom  he  had  brought  up  as  his  own 
daughter.  At  the  time  we  speak  of,  she  was  about  eighteen 
years  old,  and  engaged  to  be  married  to  one  of  the  Miriditi. 
These  Miriditi  also  occupy  a  peculiar  position  in  the  province. 
Albania  has  never  been  thoroughly  subdued  by  the  Turks, 
but,  as  in  the  case  of  the  Montenegrini  which  came  before  the 
public  a  year  or  two  ago,  there  are  tribes  amongst  them,  dwell- 
ing in  parts  more  or  less  difficult  of  access,  and  enjoying  there- 
fore a  certain  degree  of  freedom.  Of  this  number  are  the 
Miriditi,  a  Christian  tribe  inhabiting  the  neighbourhood  oi 
Alessio,  and  living  under  their  own  chieftain.  They  pay  tri- 
bute collectively,  but  admit  no  Mahometan  authority  resident 
amongst  them. 

Some  ten  or  twelve  years  before  the  circumstances  we  arc 
^oing  to  relate  (while  Antonia,  therefore,  was  still  a  child) 
George  Craini,  then  living  in  the  pashalik  of  Skutari,  waf 
persuaded  by  the  bishop  to  profess  himself  and  his  niece  Chris- 
tians, because  occult  Christianity  is,  of  course,  contrary  U 
Catholic  morality.  To  escape  the  severity  of  the  law  again 
converts  (in  which  light  he  would  necessarily  be  regarded  1)^ 
the  Turks),  he  not  only  paid  the  usual  annual  tribute  o 
thirty-five  piastres,  but  also,  through  the  aid  of  the  bish( 
he  made  gifts,  as  hush-money,  to  the  amount  of  500  piasti 
This  hush-money  went  directly  to  Kiaja  Bey  Mustapha, 
pasha's  lieutenant,  not  without  the  connivance  and  particij 
tion  of  the  pasha  himself.     Matters  went  on  very  quietly 


The  Turks  and  the  Christians  in  Albania,  S35 

ome  time  towards  the  end  of  1851,  when  these  facts  came  to 
he  knowledge  of  certain  of  the  principal  Turks  of  Skutari, 
vho  were  also  zealous  Mahometans.  These  persons  repre- 
:ented  it  to  Osman  Pasha,  and  threatened,  unless  he  carried 
)ut  the  law  of  the  Koran  against  the  Crainis,  to  publish  it, 
md  disgrace  his  government.  Upon  this,  Osman  Pasha,  to 
;ave  his  lieutenant  and  his  own  credit,  seized  both  uncle  and 
liece ;  and  on  their  refusal  to  abjure  Christianity,  he  put  them 
n  irons  and  under  confinement.  George  Craini  was  thrown 
uto  the  prisons  of  the  castle ;  Antonia  was  given  to  the  zin- 
^ari,  or  gipsies,  to  whose  charge  it  is  usual  at  Skutari  to  com- 
nit  female  prisoners.  The  uncle  remained  in  confinement 
ibout  three  months,  during  which  time  he  was  tortured, — 
:hat  is,  he  was  scourged  and  put  in  the  tumhuh,  a  wooden 
nachine,  in  which  the  suff'erer  is  fastened  down  by  the  extre- 
nities,  neck,  arms,  and  ankles,  and  a  weight  placed  on  his 
:hest  to  impede  respiration.  Under  these  trials  the  man's 
courage  failed,  and  he  again  ostensibly  abjured  the  faith,  and 
pretended  to  be  a  Mahometan ;  but  his  sincerity  being  sus- 
pected, he  was  sent  into  exile  to  Lessandrovo,  an  island  in  the 
ake  of  Skutari  near  the  Montenegrine  border,  on  which  there 
s  a  fortress.  Here,  having  seized  one  day  the  arms  of  a  guard 
md  an  empty  boat,  he  escaped  into  Montenegro,  and  was  thus 
iinabled  to  reach  Cattaro,  whence  he  was  ultimately  passed  on 
to  the  territory  of  the  Miriditi,  where  he  remained  in  safety. 

In  the  meanwhile  Antonia  was  kept  in  irons  at  Skutari; 
and  failing  in  an  attempt  to  escape  through  the  means  provided 
by  her  friends,  she  remained  fourteen  months  in  gaol.  Dur- 
ing this  time  she  was  subjected  to  repeated  examinations  and 
solicitations  to  renounce  Christianity,  especially  in  the  harem, 
and  before  the  wife  of  Osman  Pasha;  where  all  means  were  had 
recourse  to,  short  of  actual  bodily  torture,  which  in  her  case 
does  not  appear  to  have  been  applied.  She  was,  however, 
repeatedly  threatened  both  with  torture  and  with  death  itself 
if  she  continued  obstinate,  and  the  instruments  of  execution 
were  displayed  before  her.  However,  she  continued  firm  to 
the  end ;  and  at  length,  at  the  intercession  of  the  seraskier 
(Omer  Pasha)  on  his  return  from  Montenegro  in  the  spring  of 
1853,  she  was  delivered  up  to  the  captain  of  the  Miriditi,  and 
restored  to  her  uncle.  During  her  captivity,  the  Christians 
of  most  influence  at  Skutari  tried  every  means  to  procure  her 
liberation,  on  the  plea  that  she  at  least  had  always,  even  from 
childhood,  been  an  avowed  Christian.  The  bishop  petitioned 
the  pasha ;  the  consuls  memorialised  him,  and  made  notes  of 
the  transaction  to  their  respective  ministers  at  Constantinople  ; 
but  in  vain.     The  pasha  put  them  off  with  promises  from  day 

VOL.    I. — NEW  SERIES.  S 


236  The  Turks  and  the  Christians  in  Albania. 

to  day  and  from  week  to  week ;  but  nothing  was  done  until 
the  return  of  Omer  Pasha,  as  above  related. 

This  case,  which  may  be  relied  on  as  authentic,  is  particu- 
larly interesting,  not  only  as  throwing  light  on  the  state  of 
Albania,  but  also  of  tlie  other  Turkish  provinces  ;  for  siinilar 
histories  are  rife  in  Bosnia  and  other  parts  of  Turkey,  wliere 
there  are  not  the  same  means  of  verifying  the  facts.  Indeed, 
Bosnia  is  in  a  yet  more  barbarous  state  than  Albania ;  and  if 
such  things  as  these  could  happen  in  a  town  where  there  are 
resident  (besides  a  Catholic  bishop)  two  vice-consuls, — recently 
increased  to  three  by  the  accession  of  another  in  behalf  of 
France, — what  must  it  be  for  Christians  in  more  remote  places, 
far  from  all  such  hopes  of  protection !  There  is,  in  truth,  a 
hatred  on  the  part  of  Turks  as  such,  to  Christians  as  such,  of 
which  in  England  there  is  but  a  very  imperfect  apprehension, 
but  of  which  in  Albania  we  received  many  proofs,  not  onlv 
from  natives,  but  also  from  foreign  Christians,  merchant- 
missionaries,  and  consuls,  who  have  been  many  years  settk 
in  the  country.  For  instance,  an  Albanian  gentleman,  a  Tries- 
tine  merchant,  named  Salvare,  w^ho  was  residing  w^ith  his  fa- 
mily at  Durazzo  his  native  place,  was  shot  about  a  year  ago 
as  he  was  going  to  hear  Mass  on  Sunday.  The  Turk  took 
deliberate  aim  at  him,  and  killed  him  on  the  spot.  The  mur- 
derer escaped,  as  usual,  and  got  off  by  ship  to  Egypt ;  never- 
theless, the  family  of  his  victim  knew  him  well ;  and  we  wer^ 
assured  by  one  of  themselves  that  the  only  conceivable  moti 
for  the  deed  was  a  fanatical  hatred  of  Christianity. 

What  we  have  said  may  suffice  to  give  some  faint  idea] 
the  W' retched  state  of  a  Mahometan  province.  After 
years  the  national  character  of  the  Turk  is  u«changed ;  hej 
still  what  he  was,  "  proud,  lazy,  insolent,  fiilse,  and  fanatici 
the  greatest  enemy  Christianity  and  civilisation  ever  had." 
there  appears  to  be  in  modern  days  any  mitigation  of  this  h< 
tility,  any  infusion  of  a  more  liberal  spirit,  any  tendency 
improvement,  it  is  because  the  spirit  of  Islamism,  which  ani 
mated  their  conquests  and  has  hitherto  sustained  their  em 
pire,  is  well  nigh  extinguished.  But  as  long  as  that  empii 
lasts  on  its  present  basis,  as  long  as  that  spirit  survives,  si 
long  will  it  evidence  its  presence  in  cruelty  and  licentiousness- 
in  persecution  and  barbarism.  It  is  to  no  purpose  to  remin* 
us  of  the  great  steps  Turkey  has  made  during  late  years  ii 
civilisation  ;  or  that  certain  generally  well-informed  traveller 
return  to  England  charmed  with  Turkish  good  manners,  an- 
the  respect  they  have  met  with  as  strangers,  and  the  frcedor 
they  have  seen  under  the  Mahometan  system,  from  cert 
glaring  iniquities  which  are  to  be  found  in  the  great  cities 


The  Turks  and  the  Christians  in  Albania,  237 

•Europe  called  by  courtesy  Christian.  A  few  Turks  of  in- 
iuence,  distinguished  by  their  wealth  and  talents  and  po- 
ition  (it  may  be^  renegade  Christians),  ministers  of  state  per- 
.aps,  or  generals,  men  who  have  travelled  and  seen  the  world, 
re,  in  fact,  disbelievers  in  the  Koran ;  and,  caring  very  little 
or  any  religion  at  all,  simply  aim  at  making  their  country 
vhat  they  have  learnt  to  admire  elsewhere  in  respect  of  civi- 
isation.  But  the  common  Turk  remains  the  same.  His  laws 
.nd  his  ideas  of  government  are  founded  on  the  Koran;  and 
hey  will  be  altered  when  the  Koran  is  abolished,  and  not 
ooner.  The  very  name  of  Turk  is  no  longer  a  distinction  of 
ace;  it  is  applied,  in  these  provinces  at  least,  to  express  a 
)rofessor  of  the  Mahometan  religion;  for,  in  fact,  the  great 
uajority  of  those  who  are  so  called  are  sprung  from  Christian 
amilies;  e.g.  the  inhabitants  of  Antivari,  as  we  have  said, 
)ear  Venetian  names.  Osman  Pasha,  the  governor  of  Skutari, 
s  sprung  from  one  of  the  oldest  Bosnian  families.  George 
Dastriott  himself  was  carried  to  Constantinople,  and  educated 
IS  a  Turk  in  the  religion  of  the  false  Prophet ;  and  his  de- 
;cendants  might  have  become  a  thoroughly  Turkish  family,  had 
le  not  made  his  escape,  as  his  history  duly  records.  In  a 
vord,  whatever  may  be  the  origin  of  the  name^  it  is  the  spirit 
)f  the  Mahometan  religion  which  now-a-days  makes  a  Turk. 
The  principle  of  a  Turkish  government,  therefore,  will  always 
36  the  same,  so  long  as  the  government  continues ;  as  hostile 
:o  Christianity,  and  as  adverse  to  social  improvement,  in  the 
lineteenth  century,  as  it  was  in  the  fifteenth ;  and,  in  truth, 
ucapable  of  change  ;  for  if  it  could  change,  it  would  cease  to 
36  Turkish ;  that  term,  whatever  it  once  was,  is  now  no  longer, 
ike  Saxon,  or  German,  or  Celt,  the  emblem  of  a  race,  for 
vvhose  improvement  we  may  hope,  and  whose  genius  may  be 
:ultivated,  but  it  is  the  badge  of  a  religious  persuasion. 

That  the  religion  to  which  it  belongs  is  not  without  its 
portion  of  truth,  or  the  system  by  which  it  has  prevailed  over 
50  large  a  part  of  the  earth's  surface  without  its  degree  of  civi- 
lisation, will  not  be  questioned  by  any  one  v/ho  knows  aught 
of  the  history  of  Mahometanism,  or  who  has  been  ever  so 
httle  amongst  the  Turks.  What  traveller  has  failed  to  be 
struck  with  the  grave  politeness  of  their  manners,  the  sobriety 
and  decorum  of  their  habits,  the  good  breeding  of  their  upper 
classes  in  society,  the  good  faith  of  the  poorer  classes  in  per- 
forming their  contracts  ?  Were  he  pasha,  or  aga,  or  bey, — 
wherever  we  came,  we  were  received  with  the  same  courteous 
^'ttention.     Our  host  made  us  sit  beside  him,  he  ordered  us 

'ee,  he  presented  us  with  the  usual  pipe;  if  he  were  poor, 
had  no  second  to  offer,  it  was  his  oivn  pipe ;  he  asked  us 


238  The  Turks  and  the  Christians  in  Albania. 

kindly  our  business  and  the  object  of  our  journey,  and  then 
set  about  to  forward  our  wishes.     The  traveller  has  no  need 
to  fear  the  least  rudeness  (how  different  from  the  Slave-Greeks 
and  Montenegrincs,  although  neither  are  the  latter  wanting  in 
substantial  kindness  and  hospitality) ;  no  mistakes  in  speaking 
a  new  language,  no  striking  difference  of  manners  or  singula- 
rity (in  their  eyes)  of  English  costume,  will  induce  the  host  or 
his  uncouth-looking  attendants  so  far  to  forget  themselves  i 
even  to  smile  at  the  new-comer.     Their  dem.eanour  is  marki 
tliroughout  by  a  respectful  gravity  and  friendliness  towart 
their  guests.     These  may  be  small  things  in  themselves,  yi 
surely  they  bear  witness  to  the  presence  of  a  system  remark- 
ably corrective  of  the  roughnesses  of  human  nature  in  its  ori- 
ginal unameliorated  state.     Still  more  striking  is  the  quiet, 
orderly  state  of  a  Turkish  town  at  night.     No  haunts  of  ill- 
fame  contaminate  its  precincts ;  no  sounds  of  drunken  revelry 
disturb  the  streets;  no   theatres  for  exciting  and  dangeroi' 
spectacles;  no  doubtful  representations  lead  astray  their  youi 
either  in  politics  or  morals.     After  nightfall  the  streets  are 
empty;  each  fcUiiily  has  retired  to  its  own  vibode ;  and  if  any 
one  appears  in  the  public  ways,  it  is  a  solitary  person  with  a 
light,  perhaps  going  to  seek  the  doctor,  or  on  some  othei 
errand  of  necessity  and  charity.     A  solemn  stillness  reigns, 
which  is  broken  only  by  the  guard  gomg  round  to  see  that  al 
is  safe,  and  to  remove,  if  haply  they  should  fall  in  with  sucb 
any  disorderly  person,  or  even  the  idle  wanderer  who  venture.' 
to  roam  abroad  at  such  an  hour  without  an  ostensible  object 
Again,  it  is  impossible  to  travel  in  Turkey  without  being  tt 
minded  of  the  religion  of  its  inhabitants.     The  first  bridg< 
you  cross,  after  you  have  passed  the  frontier,  will  have  it 
Arabic  inscription,  signifying  that  some  one  built  it  as  a  w 
of  benevolence,  and  for  the  good  of  his  soul.     You  will 
reach  a  single  city  without  passing  through  its  burial-groun 
the  stones  marking  distinctly  whether  there  is  laid  beneatl 
them  a  man  or  a  woman,  a  priest  or  a  layman  ;  together  witli 
verse  from  the  Koran,  or  some  appropriate  inscription.   Thn 
times  a  day,  at  sunrise,  at  noon,  and  at  sunset,  the  Muezzin, 
kind  of  priest,  appears  on  the  lofty  gallery  of  the  minaret  t 
make  his  accustomed  detour,  and  utter  his  monotonous  ar. 
melancholy  call  to  prayer. 

In  a  word,  there  is  with  the  Turks  both  a  certain  amoun 
of  religion,  and  a  certain  degree  of  civilisation.     But,  unh 
pily,  that  religion  is  grounded  on  principles  diametrically 
posed   to  the  principles  of  Christianity,  and  animated  b 
spirit  bitterly  hostile  to  it.     And  no  wonder ;  since,  Iiad 
Gospel  of  Christ  never  been  preached,  the  Koran  could  ne 


11 

I 

me 


Mm  Strickland's  Life  of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots,       239 

have  been  invented;  had  Christianity  not  gone  before,  Maho- 
metanism  could  never  have  followed,  occupying  the  position 
'-*:  has  done  in  history.  It  has  not  the  nature  of  a  new  false 
iigion,  so  much  as  of  a  heresy.  It  does  not  abolish  Holy 
;:>ciipture,  but  supersedes  it  by  means  of  its  own  false  inter- 
pretation, and  its  pretended  "appendix"  of  Revelation  ;  and 
therefore,  like  all  heresies,  it  will  be  to  the  end  what  it  was 
from  the  first,  the  fierce  relentless  enemy  of  the  Church.  And 
so  also  of  their  civilisation  ;  it  extends  only  to  a  certain  point, 
and  there  it  stops ;  and  all  further  improvement  is  forbidden. 
It. admits  of  no  spirit  of  progress.  Whatever  appearances  of 
change  in  this  respect  we  may  have  heard  of  in  latter  years, 
come  from  without, — they  are  no  spontaneous  growth  from 
within.  They  remain  as  foreign  excrescences,  which  have 
come  from  accidental  sources  ;  and  the  very  fact  of  their  intro- 
duction shows  the  weakness  of  the  old  state  of  things ;  which, 
having  had  its  day,  is  now  ready  to  pass  away.  This  is  the 
reason  why  one  hears  Turkey  spoken  of  on  all  sides  and  so 
frequently  as  a  corpse ;  it  is  a  corpse,  or  nearly  one,  because 
its  animating  spirit  is  dead,  or  dying.  The  whole  fabric  is  tot- 
terii]g  and  ready  to  fall.  Its  days  are  numbered.  Tliis  at 
least  is  the  common  testimony  of  all  who  have  had  the  best 
opportunities  of  knowing  intimately  its  real  state.  The  re- 
fanned  embers  of  its  old  fanaticism, — evinced  in  the  persecu- 
tion of  Christians  in  this  remote  province,  or  an  attempt  at  a 
popular  outbreak  in  that, — do  but  serve  to  excite  its  enemies, 
and  render  its  destruction  more  sure.  Whether  it  be  sustained 
yet  a  little  while,  at  its  last  gasp,  by  the  jealousy  of  the  great 
Western  nations,  till  at  length  it  dies  a  natural  death;  or 
whether  as  it  came  with  the  sword,  so  it  perish  with  the 
sword,  and  die  in  the  throes  of  mortal  conflict,  thus  much  ap- 
pears to  us  to  be  certain,  that  this  great,  persecuting,  anti- 
christian  power  will  very  soon,  as  far  as  regards  Europe,  be 
numbered  with  the  things  that  have  been  and  are  not. 


MISS  STRICKLAND'S  LIFE  OF  MARY  QUEEN  OF  SOOTS. 

Lives  of  the  Queens  of  Scotland,  and  English  Princesses  con- 
nected with  the  Royal  Succession  of  Great  Britain,  Vol.  IV. 
By  Miss  Agnes  Strickland.     Blackwood  and  Sons. 
The  life  of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots  has  formed  the  subject  of 
so  many  works  already,  that  it  might  almost  seem  as  if  there- 


240       Miss  Strickland's  Life  of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots, 

were  no  room  for  any  other.     The  dih'gent  researches  of  Miss 
Strickland,  however,  suffice  to  show  that  much  yet  remains  t 
be  gathered  from  the  inedited  State  Papers,  and  other  mss.  i 
the  period,  to  throw  light  upon  the  troubled  events  of  that 
tragical  history.     The  present  volume  contains  many  highly 
important  particulars    which   have   been    thus    rescued  from 
oblivion,  and  which  often  serve  to  correct  the  errors  or  wilful 
falsehoods  of  earlier  biographers.     It  would  be  but  a  tedious 
task  to  enumerate  th.e  several  instances  in  which  she  has  tri- 
umphantly  exposed   and   refuted    the    misrepresentations  oj 
Knox,  Buchanan,  and  Spottiswoode,  among  ancient  writer 
or  of  Mignet  and  Dargaud  among  men  of  our  own  day:  h 
evidence,   however,   being  in    almost  all  cases   derived  frc 
official  and  authoritative  documents,  we  think  no  unprejudiced 
person  can  refuse  to  acknowledge  the  superior  truthfulness  ol 
her  narrative. 

There  is  one  point,  indeed,  in  which  it  is  still  to  our  eye^ 
deficient;  and  that  is,  in  the  portraiture  of  Mary's  interior  lift 
as  a  Christian.  To  Catholics,  it  is  not  enough  that  MarA 
should  be  shown  to  be  innocent  of  all  those^foul  crimes  tha^ 
the  craft  of  designing  politicians  or  the  malignity  of  sectarian; 
would  fain  have  kid  to  her  charge ;  we  desire  to  be  introducec 
to  a  more  intimate  knowledge  of  her  character  and  actions  a: 
"an  unpersuaded princess,"  as  Secretary  Lethington  calls  ber 
i.e.  as  a  faitliful  and  devoted  adherent  to  the  ancient  faith 
But  on  this  head  the  notices  scattered  up  and  down  in  Mis; 
Strickland's  volume  are  very  scanty ;  more  scanty  than  th* 
minuteness  of  some  of  the  records  which  she  consulted  cai 
have  rendered  at  all  necessar}-.  We  have  only  observed  on* 
or  two  passages  in  the  whole  of  this  volume  bearing  on  thi 
very  interesting  subject  which  are  at  all  worth  extracting 
The  first  records  an  act  of  devotion,  such  as  many  a  mot^ 
in  Catholic  countries  still  delights  to  perform,  but  which 
Strickland  rashly  condemns  as  superstitious : 


:ting 

1 


"Among  the  few  acts  of  superstition  that  can  be  recorded  c 
Mary  niay  be  noticed  that,  at  the  birth  of  her  son,  she  made  a  vo^ 
to  send  liis  weight  in  wax  to  tlie  Notre  Dame  of  Cleiy,*  to  make 
Novena  there  for  liis  well-being.  She  promised  also  to  provide  thr 
a  Mass  should  be  sung  in  the  church  of  Clery  every  day  for  a  yea 
accompanied  by  a  daily  donation  of  '  treize-trezains'  to  thirteen  pc* 
persons  who  attended  divine  service  in  tlie  morning.  The  haras^ 
ing  and  exciting  events  which  followed  tlie  birth  of  her  child  cause 
Mary  to  forget  this  vow,  until  it  recurred  to  lier  memory  in  Ion 

*  Clery  is  situated  between  Blois  and  Orleans,  both  residences  with 
Mary  was  familiar  in  her  youth. 


Miss  Strickland's  Life  of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots.       ^41 

vears  after,  during  the  solitary  liours  of  her  imprisonment  at  Shef- 
iield  castle,  when  she  wrote  to  her  ambassador  to  have  it  fulfilled." 

Another  passage  occurs  in  the  scene  of  Darnley's  recon- 
ciliation with  his  injured  sovereign  and  wife,  after  the  tragedy 
of  Riccio's  murder.  Darnley,  irritated  at  the  deference  paid 
to  his  inveterate  enemy  the  Earl  of  Moray,  and  the  contemp- 
tuous indifference  with  which  he  himself  was  treated,  sought 
the  chafnbcr  of  Mary  as  his  only  refuge  from  those  mocking 
fiends  with  whom  he  had  so  unnaturally  conspired  against  her. 
His  conscience  seems  to  have  been  smitten  with  some  feeling 
of  remorse  for  what  he  had  done  ;  and  certainly  he  was  terrified 
at  the  prospect  of  still  more  atrocious  designs,  to  which  he 
apprehended  he  might  be  rendered  an  accomplice.  Under 
these  circumstances,  Mary  mr.de  one  hist  powerful  appeal  to 
his  better  feelings  ;  and  for  the  moment 

"  Her  tears  and  pathetic  eloquence  prevailed  :  Darnley  threw 
himself  at  her  feet,  and  in  an  agony  of  remorse  besought  her  to 
forgive  his  crime,  and  restore  him  to  her  love;  offering  at  the  same 
time  to  do  any  thing  she  desired.  To  Mary's  honour  it  is  recorded, 
that  her  first  injunction  was  dictated  by  her  anxiety  for  the  weal  of 
his  immortal  soul,  stained  with  the  deadly  guilt  of  murder.  She 
knew  his  life  was  in  no  less  danger  than  her  own,  and  therefore 
begged  him  '  above  all  things  to  endeavour  to  appease  the  wrath  of 
God  by  penitence  and  prayer,  that  he  might  obtain  forgiveness 
where  it  was  most  requisite  to  seek  for  mercy.  As  for  her  own 
forgiveness,  that  she  most  frankly  accorded,'  she  said,  turning  upon 
him,  as  she  spoke,  her  face  beaming  with  tenderness  and  joy." 

It  is  not  every  wife  who  would  so  freely  have  imparted  her 

own  forgiveness  to  a  husband  that  had  been  guilty  of  outrages 

like  those  which  Darnley  had  committed  against  Mar}^;  but 

the  number  is  still  less,  we  fear,  of  those  who  at  such  a  mo- 

.ent  would  have  given  the  first  place  to  that  higher  forgiye- 

iss  of  which  he  stood  in  need.    This  little  incident  is  a  token 

:'  that  sincerity  and  earnestness  in  religion  which  formed  the 

leal  foundation  of  Mary's  character,  and  which  renders  the 

study  of  her  history  so  deeply  interesting. 

Protestant  biographers  will  not  pay  much  attention  to  these 
details,  nor  attach  much  importance  to  them,  perhaps,  when 
narrated  ;  but  for  ourselves,  they  throw  a  halo  round  her  ac- 
tions and  sufierings,  and  impart  an  interest  to  her  whole  life, 
which  the  brightest  genius,  the  most  amiable  temper,  or  the 
most  undeserved  sufferings,  would  fail  to  command,  if  unac- 
companied by  this  higher  and  more  precious  gift.  We  cannot 
forget  what  Benedict  XIY.  has  said  concerning  this  queen, 
*'  that  nothing,  perhaps,  is  wanting  to  prove  her  death  to  be  a 
true  martyrdom"  [nihil  fortasse  deest  ex  iis  qvcB  pro  rero  marty- 


242       Mus  Strickland's  Life  of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots. 

rio  sunt  necessarian  De  Can.  SS.  lib.  iii.  c.  13,  n.  10).  Every 
biography,  tlierefore,  which  takes  a  lower  view  of  her  life  and 
character,  is  to  a  certain  extent  necessarily  unsatisfactory;  and 
although  a  faithful  clironicle  of  all  her  words  and  actions  must 
needs  furnish  the  data  upon  which  even  the  highest  estimate  of 
her  character  must  be  formed — if  it  be  consistent  with  truth, 
— yet  it  will  scarcely  ever  happen  that  such  a  chronicle  shall  be 
written.  The  materials  for  the  life  of  Mary  are  so  unusually 
abundant  as  almost  to  prove  a  source  of  embarrassment  to  one 
who  writes  for  this  railway-reading  generation.  Something 
must  be  omitted ;  selection  and  abbreviation  are  absolutely 
indispensable ;  and  here  the  taste  of  the  author  cannot  fail 
to  run  counter  to  that  of  some  of  her  readers.  Miss  Strick- 
land has  manifestly  the  most  sincere  desire  to  do  full  justice 
to  her  much-injured  heroine;  and  she  has  therefore  brought 
into  the  boldest  relief  all  those  points  in  her  character  which 
would  most  excite  the  admiration  of  the  English  public.  But, 
in  doing  this,  she  has  unconsciously  represented  some  of  them 
in  a  light  which  will  strike  the  Catholic  readers  as  distorted 
and  unjust.  To  take  an  example,  let  us  look  at  the  way  in 
which  she  speaks  of  the  wonderful  toleration  exhibited  by 
Mary.  Even  before  she  came  to  Scotland,  when  Throckmor- 
ton the  English  ambassador  waited  on  her  in  Paris,  for  the 
purpose  of  delivering  a  compliment  in  the  name  of  his  royal 
mistress  on  her  recovery  from  a  late  illness,  some  conversation 
passed  between  them,  in  which  she  laid  down  very  clearly  the 
principles  by  wdiich  she  desired  to  be  guided  in  this  very  im- 
portant question. 

"  'You  know  there  is  much  ado  in  my  realm  about  matters  of  reli- 
gion ;  and  though  there  be  a  greater  number  of  the  contrary  religion 
to  me  than  I  would  there  were,  yet  there  is  no  reason  that  subjects 
should  give  a  law  to  their  sovereign,  and  specially  in  matters  of  reli- 
gion; which,  I  fear,  my  subjects  shall  take  in  hand.  ...   I  will  be 
plain  w  ith  you  :  the  religion  which  I  profess  I  hold  to  be  the  most  ac- 
ceptable to  God  ;   nor  do  I  know,  nor  desire  to  know,  any  other. 
Constancy  becometh  all  folks  well,  none  better  than  princes,  and  sucliM 
as  have  rule  over  realms ;  and  specially  in  matters  of  religion.     I^ 
Jiave    been  brought   up,'    added   she,    '  in   this  religion,   and  who 
might  credit  me  in  any  thing  if  I  should  show  myself  light  in  this^ 
case  ?     And  though  I  be  young,  and  not  well  learned,  yet  I  haveM 
lieard  this  matter  oft  disi)uted  by  my  uncle,   my  Lord   Cardinal,^ 
with  some  that  thought  they  could  say  somewhat  in  the  matter;  and 
I  found  no  great  reason  therein  to  change  my  opinion.'     *  Madam/ « 
said  Throckmorton,   '  if  you  judge  well  in  that  matter,  you  must  beij 
conversant  in  the  Scriptures,  which  are  the  touchstone  to  try  the 
riglit  from  the  wrong.     Peradventure,'  added  he,  *  you  are  so  par- 
tially afTccted  to  your  uncle's  arguments,  that  you  could  not  indif- 


Miss  Slricklaud's  Life  of  Mary  Queen  of  Sects,       243 

lerently  consider  the  other  party's  ;  yet  this  I  assure  you,  madam, 
your  uncle,  my  Lord  Cardinal,  in  conference  with  me  about  these 
matters,  hath  confessed  that  there  be  great  errors  come  into  the 
Church,  and  great  disorders  in  the  ministers  and  clergy,  insomuch 
tliat  he  desired  and  wished  there  might  be  a  reformation  of  the  one 
and  the  other.'  '  I  have  often  heard  him  say  the  like,'  rejoined 
Mary,  who,  from  Throckmorton's  own  showing,  conducted  herselt 
with  equal  frankness  and  good  humour  during  the  wliole  of  this 
deeply  interesting  conversation.  She  listened  with  great  courtesy 
to  all  he  chose  to  say  on  subjects  of  a  very  exciting  nature,  and 
bore  his  plain  speaking  with  unruffled  sweetness,  '  I  trust,'  con- 
tinued Throckmorton,  '  that  God  will  ins])ire  all  you  that  be  princes, 
that  there  may  be  some  good  order  taken  in  this  matter,  so  as  there 
may  be  one  unity  of  religion  through  all  Christendom.'  '  God 
grant,'  responded  the  young  Queen  fervently.  '  But,  for  my  part,' 
added  she,  *  you  may  perceive  that  I  am  none  of  those  that  will 
change  my  religion  every  year  ;  and,  as  I  told  you  in  the  beginning, 
I  mean  to  constrain  none  of  my  subjects,  but  could  wish  that  they 
were  all  as  I  am  :  and  I  trust  they  shall  have  no  support  to  con- 
strain me.'  However  widely  we  may  differ  from  Mary's  creed," 
observes  Miss  Strickland,  "  it  is  impossible  to  impugn  the  liberality 
of  her  sentiments,  which  were  fully  borne  out  by  her  conduct ;  for, 
to  h.cr  honour  be  it  said,  she  was  the  only  sovereign  in  that  age 
against  whom  no  instance  of  perseeiition  can  be  recorded." 

On  her  arrival  in  Scotland,  she  proceeded  to  act  in  strict 
accordance  with  this  enunciation  of  her  principles.  She  chose 
a  cabinet  which,  with  one  exception,  was  exclusively  Protes- 
tant ;  and  the  majority  of  her  council  also  belonged  to  the 
same  religion ;  whilst  in  her  own  private  chapel  the  holy 
sacrifice  was  offered  according  to  the  ancient  rites.  Her  sub- 
jects, however,  did  not  observe  the  same  moderation  towards 
their  sovereign.  On  one  of  the  first  Sundays,  ''  the  Earl  of 
Argyll  and  the  Lord  James  so  disturbed  the  quire,  that  both 
priests  and  clerks  left  their  places  with  broken  heads  and 
bloody  ears.  It  was  a  sport  alone  for  some  that  were  there 
to  behold  it,"  observes  Randolph,  in  relating  this  outrage  to 
liis  friend  Cecil.  "  Others  there  were,"  he  continues,  in  allu- 
sion to  the  young  queen  and  her  ladies,  "  that  shed  a  tear  or 
two,  and  made  no  more  of  the  matter;"  that  is  to  say,  no 
steps  were  taken  to  bring  the  offenders  to  justice.  A  few 
weeks  later,  the  provost,  Douglas  of  Kilspindie,  and  his  breth- 
ren in  office, 

**  Attempted  a  m.ost  despotic  and  illegal  act  of  persecution 
against  some  of  their  fellow-subjects,  by  issuing  a  proclamation 
imperatively  enjoining  '  all  Papists,'  whom  they  designated  by  the 
oifensive  appellation  of  idolaters,  and  classed  with  the  most  de- 
praved offenders  against  the  moral  law,  to  depart  the  town,  under 


2Ai'       Aliss  Strickland's  Life  of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots. 

the  penalties  of  being  set  on  the  market-cross  for  six  hours,  sub- 
jected to  all  the  insults  and  indignities  which  tlie  rabble  might  think 
proper  to  inflict,  carted  round  the  tOAvn,  and  burned  on  both  cheeks ; 
and  for  the  third  ofifence  to  be  punished  with  death. 

"If  the  fair  checks  of  the  Papist  Queen  blanched  not  widi  alarm 
at  the  pain  and  disfigurement  with  which,  in  common  with  those  of 
the  obstinate  adherents  to  her  proscribed  faith,  they  were  threatened 
by  her  barbarous  provost  and  baillies,  it  was  haply  because  they 
tingled  with  indignation  at  the  insulting  manner  in  which  she  found 
herself  classed  w  ith  the  vilest  of  criminals.  Instead,  however,  of 
taking  up  the  matter  as  a  personal  grievance,  by  insisting,  like  Es- 
ther, that  she  was  included  in  this  sweeping  denunciation  against 
tlie  people  of  her  own  denomination,  she  treated  it  as  an  infringe- 
ment of  the  liberties  of  tl;e  realm,  and  addressed  her  royal  letter  to 
the  tov\n' council  complaining  of  this  oppressive  and  illegal  edict. 
She  must,  even  if  she  had  been  a  member  of  the  reformed  congre- 
gation, have  done  the  same,  as  a  duty  incumbent  upon  a  just  ruler 
of  the  people  commiitted  to  her  charge.  Her  remonstrance  pro- 
duced no  other  effects  than  a  reiteration  of  the  same  proclamation, 
couched,  if  possible,  in  still  grosser  and  more  offensive  language. 
Mary  responded  to  this  act  of  contumely  by  an  order  to  the  tovwi 
council  to  supersede  those  magistrates  by  electing  others.  The 
town  council,  on  this  indication  of  the  spirit  of  her  forefathers  on 
the  part  of  their  youthfid  sovereign  in  her  teens,  yielded  obedience 
to  her  mnndate.  Mary  then  issued  her  royal  proclamation,  grant- 
ing permission  '  to  all  good  and  faithful  subjects  to  repair  to  or 
leave  Edinburgh  according  to  their  pleasure  or  convenience.'  'And 
so,'  says  Knox,  '  got  the  devil  freedom  ngain,  whereas  before 
durst  not  have  been  seen  by  daylight  upon  the  common  streets.'" 

These  and  other  instances  of  Mary's  **  toleration"  are  n 
corded  by  Miss  Strickland,  with  the  very  laudable  desire 
creating  a  favourable  impression  of  her  heroine  on  the  mmi 
of  her  Protestant  readers;  and  we  ourselves  are  as  much  d^ 
lighted  with  them  as  they  can  be.     But  then,  we  dcsiderj 
some  more  intimate  knowledge  of  other  features  in  licr  cW 
racter,  which   may  enable  us  to  qualify  this  toleration,  am 
assign  it  to  its   true  motive;  —  and  here  Miss   Strickland  is 
silent.     Toleration  is  not  one  of  the  cardinal  virtues;  it  takes 
its  colouiii^g  and  its  value  from  the  fountain  whence  it  springs; 
it  may  be  nothing  more  than  an  absolute  ir.difference  to  the 
interests  of  religion,  and  proceed  from  a  denial  of  all  dogmatic 
truth.      In  such  cases  we  cannot  rccogr.ise  it  as  a  moral  excel- 
ence;  and  we  think  Miss  Strickland  has  not  been  sufficient! 
careful  to  guard  against  such  an  interpretation  being  putupc 
the  toleration  of  Mar}^     In  oidcr  in  some  measure  to  suppl 
this    deficiency,    which   cai.not  fail  to  strike   every    Cathol 
reader,  we  will  insert  here  two  letters  bearing  upon  the  sul 


Miss  Strickland's  Life  of  Mary  Queeji  of  Scots.       24:5 

ject,  to  which  Miss  Strickland  nowhere  alludes.  The  one  is  ad- 
dressed to  Pope  Paul  IV.,  and  the  other  to  her  uncle,  the  Cardi- 
nal of  Lorraine ;  and  both  are  dated  on  the  30th  January,  1563  : 

''Most  Holy  Father,"  she  says,  addressing  die  Pope,  "our 
mind  has  always  been  so  to  direct  our  desires,  thoughts,  and  la- 
bours, that  some  means  might  be  offered  us  by  heaven  whereby  we 
could  bring  back  to  the  true  fold  our  wretched  people,  whom,  with 
tliC  deepest  grief,  we  have  found  strayed  from  the  right  way,  and 
dehuled  by  vain  opinions  and  condemned  errors.  The  extreme  ini- 
quity of  the  time  has  greatly  distressed  us,  and  has  not  yet  suffered 
us  to  do  our  duty  in  what  concerned  the  sacred  council  [of  Trent, 
which  was  then  sitting],  though  we  particularly  desired  it.  We  pray 
your  Holiness  not  to  think  that  this  has  been  neglected  from  any 
fault  of  ours,  for  we  have  tried  every  thing  in  order  to  send  prelates 
from  our  kingdom.  We  had  hoped  that  so  good  and  holy  a  proceed- 
ing would  serve  to  the  edification  of  our  subjects;  that  at  length  they 
might,  in  a  worthy  manner,  have  acknowledged  the  holy  Catholic 
Ciiurch  with  that  obedience  in  which  we  wish  to  live  and  die  your  most 
devoted  daughter.  For  this  desired  end  we  will  spare  no  means  in 
our  power,  not  even  life  itself" 

The  tenour  of  her  second  letter  is  as  follows  : 

"  My  kinsman, — An  opportunity  offering,  I  would  not  be  wanting 
in  my  duty  to  preserve  your  favour  and  friendship  towards  me. 
Together  with  these  letters  to  you  I  send  others  to  our  Holy  Fa- 
ther, wliich  I  beg  of  you  to  cause  to  be  transmitted  to  him  with  all 
due  reverence.  In  diese  I  profess  and  afJirm  that  I  will  live  and 
die  in  the  ancient  obedience  to  the  Catholic  and  Roman  Church :  I  re- 
pute it  to  be  the  only  Church,  and  its  Pontiff  chief  shepherd  ;  whom 
I  supplicate  to  acknowledge  me  as  his  devoted  daughter.  I  pray 
you  to  bear  me  witness,  as  far  as  you  can,  that  the  many  miserable 
errors  in  which  the  greater  part  of  my  kingdom  is  immersed  grieve 
me  much  ;  and  yet  I  am  condemned  to  be  a  spectator  of  the  same. 
Believe  me  that  1  should  be  most  happy  could  any  remedy  be  found 
for  these  evils,  even  should  it  be  with  the  sacrifice  of  my  life  ;  for  I 
have  determined  rather  to  forfeit  that  than  to  change  this  my  faith,  or 
to  give  ear  in  any  respect  to  these  heresies.  You  may  be  certain 
that  I  will  listen  to  you ;  and  I  earnestly  entreat,  that  if  I  have  in 
anyway  been  less  intent  on  religion  than  was  fitting,  you  \\\\\  excuse 
me,  for  you  know  my  good-will  better  than  any  other." 

We  have  no  doubt  that  these  letters  are  no  mere  diploma- 
tic documents,  declaring  sentiments  which  were  thought  to  be 
becoming  in  a  person  in  Mary's  situation,  but  rather  the  genuine 
expressions  oi  her  own  simple  and  religious  heart,  really  de- 
scribing what  she  felt;  and  when  we  remember  the  iniiammatory 
language,  on  the  one  hand,  which  was  being  used  against  her  at 
that  time  in  the  Protestant  pulpits,  where  she  was  compared 
to  Jezabel,  Sisara,  and  other  notorious  objects  of  divine  wrath 


246       Miss  Strickland's  Life  of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots. 

and  vengeance,  and  the  persuasions  of  many  Catholic  nobles, 
on  the  other  hand,  who  sought  to  frighten  her  into  adoptin"-  a 
different  line  of  conduct, — we  cannot  sufficiently  admire  her 
firmness  and  moderation  in  still  continuing  to  legislate  on  her 
own  enlightened  plans.  It  must  have  been  a  severe  trial  to 
an  earnest  and  good  Catholic,  in  the  circumstances  under  which 
she  found  herself,  to  listen  to  the  complaints  of  her  Catholic 
subjects,  protesting  against  her  policy  as  injurious  to  the  in- 
terests of  the  Church,  when  there  was  not  one  amongst  them 
more  really  devoted  to  those  interests,  and  more  ready  to  make 
all  possible  sacrifices  for  their  promotion.  Indeed,  it  is  very 
instructive,  in  this  regard,  to  compare  the  language  and  con- 
duct of  Mary  with  that  of  some  other  Catholics  who  figure  in 
the  same  history.  Mary,  the  really  devout  and  uncompro- 
mising Catholic  in  her  own  practice,  was  a  perfect  model  cf 
toleration  in  her  behaviour  towards  others.  Darnley,  on  the 
other  hand,  who,  as  Miss  Strickland  expresses  it,  ^'  occasion- 
ally made  his  Popish  principles  bend  to  his  political  interests ;" 
who,  on  the  solemn  occasion  of  his  marriage,  retired  from 
church  with  the  Protestant  lords  before  the  Mass  was  begun ; 
and  who,  both  before  and  after  his  marriage,  did  not  scruple 
to  attend  the  preachings  of  John  Knox; — afterwards,  when  he 
thought  himself  sufficiently  powerful  no  longer  to  be  under 
the  necessity  of  concealing  his  real  creed,  *'  inhibited  this 
same  John  Knox  from  preaching,  rated  the  lords  for  not  going 
with  him  to  Mass,  tossed  the  psalm-book  into  the  fire,  and 
swore  he  would  have  a  Mass  in  St.  Giles's."  It  would  take  us 
away  from  our  present  subject  to  show  that  this  was  no  strange 
phenomenon,  but  an  ordinary  rule,  characterising  the  whole 
history  of  wliat  is  called  religious  persecution  on  the  part 
professing  Catholics ;  but  we  cannot  take  our  leave  of  t 
subject  without  contrasting  this  truthful  picture  of  Mar 
toleration  with  the  picture  given  us  by  INIr.  Sharon  Turn 
who  says  that  **  every  Protestant  of  England  had  the  dismay- 
ing certainty  before  liim,  from  Mary's  fixed  attachment  to  her 
religion,  from  her  determination  to  uphold  it,  her  repeated 
pledges,  and  the  Romish  conviction, — that  if  she  should  gain 
the  English  throne,  she  would  renew  her  namesake's  career 
of  violent  persecution  and  bloodshed  against  all  who  should 
reject  the  Papal  system  !" 

We  have  pointed  out  what  we  consider  to  be  a  defect  ii 
Miss  Strickland's  narrative;  a  defect  which  it  is  impossibj 
perhaps  that  any  Protestant  should  altogether  avoid  in  wr 
ing  the  life  of  a  Catholic.     At  the  same  time,  we  are  bound 
add  that  the  impression  which   this  biography  leaves  on  t 
mind,  both  as  to  Mary's  character  and  abilities,  is  in  every  Wi 


oie 

I 


3Iiss  Strickland's  Life  of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots.       24:7 

far  more  true  and  satisfactory  than  that  which  is  left  by  any 
other  Protestant  historian  we  know  of.  The  period  of  her 
history  comprised  in  this  volume  is  from  the  second  year  of 
her  widowhood,  or  the  first  year  after  her  entrance  into  Scot- 
land, to  the  year  after  her  unhappy  marriage  with  Darnley  ;  a 
period  full  of  extraordinary  trials  and  difficulties,  but  through- 
out the  whole  of  which  she  behaved  with  consummate  skill, 
prudence,  and  virtue,  A  young  widow  of  eighteen,  returning 
"from  the  polished  and  admiring  court  of  France,  to  assume 
the  reins  of  empire  in  a  realm  impoverished  by  foreign  inva- 
sions and  convulsed  with  internal  strife,"  she  showed  no  or- 
dinary abilities  as  well  as  goodness,  in  the  exertions  which  she 
made  to  conciliate  the  affections  of  all  parties  ;  and  the  degree 
of  success  which  attended  these  efforts  was  certainly  far  more 
to  be  attributed  to  the  temperate  and  maternal  tone  of  her 
own  personal  disposition,  than  to  the  virtue  or  talents  of  her 
prime  ministers.  No  sooner  had  she  taken  possession  of  the 
government  of  her  own  realm,  than  she  devoted  her  attention 
to  the  relief  of  all  who  were  in  misery  and  oppressed.  "  Never 
was  any  sovereign,"  says  Miss  Strickland,  *'  so  little  burden- 
some to  her  people,  or  more  attentive  to  their  general  weal." 
Two  almoners  were  chosen  for  the  distribution  of  her  personal 
charities  to  objects  of  distress  ;  a  portion  of  her  private  income 
was  devoted  to  the  education  of  young  children  ;  an  advocate 
was  appointed  to  plead  the  causes  of  the  poor,  and  to  defend 
them  from  the  oppression  of  the  powerful ;  and  in  order  that 
their  causes  might  be  disposed  of  with  greater  expedition,  she 
"  ordered  three  days  a-week  for  their  attendance,  and  aug- 
mented the  judges'  salaries,  sitting  herself  often  for  more 
equity."  Nothing  was  too  trifling  for  her  notice  that  pro- 
mised to  benefit  the  humbler  classes  of  her  subjects.  Having 
observed,  for  instance,  during  her  progress  througli  Lorraine, 
that  the  condition  of  the  peasantry  was  much  better  in  those 
districts  where  the  women  and  children  were  occupied  in  mak- 
ing straw-hats,  than  where  this  domestic  manufacture  was  un- 
known, she  engaged  a  company  of  these  Lorraine  straw- 
piaiters  to  return  with  her  to  her  own  country,  in  order  to 
instruct  her  countrywomen  in  the  same  simple  but  profitable 
art.  We  are  not  surprised,  therefore,  to  learn,  on  the  autho- 
rity of  the  French  ambassador,  that  from  the  first  moment  of 
her  landing,  "  she  quickly  won  the  hearts  of  the  people  by 
the  graciousness  and  sweetness  of  her  deportment ;"  and  that 
this  popularity  was  no  mere  caprice  of  the  moment — excited 
by  the  touching  interest  of  the  circumstances  under  which  the 
young  and  beautiful  widow  came  to  take  possession  of  her  throne 
•—is  clear  from  many  incidents  in  the  later  history  of  her  life. 


S48       Miss  Strickland's  Life  of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots, 

English  intrigues,  however,  and  the  fanaticism  of  John  Knox, 
were  only  too  powerful  in  blasting  all  the  happy  fruits  that 
iniglit  reasonably  have  been  expected  from  this  rare  combination 
of  gifts  and  circumstances.  But  for  these  elements  of  discord, 
skilfully  handled  by  subtle  and  unscrupulous  politicians,  not 
even  the  ill-assorted  marriage  with  Darnley  would  have  sufficed 
to  dim  the  glories  of  Mary's  reign.  Her  domestic  happiness, 
indeed,  must  under  all  circumstances  necessarily  have  been  em- 
bittered by  her  union  with  one  in  every  way  so  unworthy  of 
her ;  but  the  good  government  of  her  people  would  scarcely 
have  been  interrupted  but  for  the  causes  we  have  men- 
tioned ;  since  the  facts  recorded  in  this  volume  abundantly 
show  that,  though  Mary  had,  from  a  natural  sense  of  pro- 
priety, desired  to  associate  her  husband  with  herself  in  the 
management  of  political  affairs,  yet,  when  he  showed  himseli. 
utterly  incapacitated  for  such  a  responsibility,  she  did  not  heS 
sitate  to  continue  to  bear  it  alone  and  with  undiminishea 
abilit3\  Indeed,  nothing  has  struck  us  more  forcibly  in  this 
new  biography  of  Queen  Mary,  than  the  very  high  order  of 
talent  displayed  in  her  diplomatic  intercourse  with  the  Eng- 
lish and  other  courts.  Some  of  her  correspondence  with 
Queen  Elizabeth,  and  conversations  with  her  iniquitous  am- 
bassador, Randolph,  are  perfect  masterpieces  of  Christian 
politics.  With  a  council,  the  majority  of  whom  were  the 
bribed  tools  of  the  English  sovereign ;  with  ministers,  seeking 
for  the  most  part  nothing  but  the  advancement  of  their  own 
interests ;  surrounded  by  spies  and  traitors ;  it  is  truly  won^ 
derful  that  Mary  should  have  been  able  to  guide  her  course 
successfully  as  she  did :  and  it  is  quite  refreshing  to  turn  froi 
the  hypocritical  dispatches  of  Randolph,  and  the  perjured  lie 
of  Elizabeth,  to  some  of  the  open-hearted,  sincere,  and  maillj 
declarations  of  the  Scottish  Queen.  We  are  sorry  that  oi 
limits  will  not  allow  us  to  quote,  either  from  her  letters 
speeches,  instances  of  what  we  refer  to ;  neither  can  w^e  fini 
room,  as  we  had  intended,  for  Miss  Strickland's  narrative  ol 
the  murder  of  Riccio,  and  her  comments  upon  it.  We  must 
content  ourselves  with  saying,  that  the  narrative  is  far  more 
detailed  and  accurate  than  any  that  has  yet  been  published; 
and  that  it  will  not  be  the  fault  of  the  narrator,  if  it  does  nat 
materially  impair  that  Protestant  tradition  of  Mary's  character, 
which  blind  fanaticism  and  political  falsehood  have  so  lon^ 
and  so  industriously  propagated. 


249 


ON  THE  STUDY  OF  WORDS. 

Lectures  hy  R.  C.  Trench,  B.B.,  Sfc.  ^c,     J.  W.  Parker. 

•'Can  you  devise  any  means  to  prevent  the  spread  of  the 
Roman  Catholic  religion,"  said  the  Orange  Recorder  to  the  Pro- 
testant Bishop  of  London  ;  and  in  so  speaking  he  represented 
one  half  of  his  co-religionists  at  the  present  day,  and  obliged 
the  prelate  he  addressed — doubtless  much  against  his  will — to 
represent  the  other  half.  Why  should  not  this  oft-repeated 
query,  which  it  is  found  so  difficult  to  answer,  receive  the 
honour  due  to  what  is  so  highly  characteristic  of  the  times, 
and  be  commemorated  by  a  medal,  with  a  half-length  figure  of 
the  recorder  on  the  one  side,  and  the  silent  bishop  on  the 
other:  the  robes  belonging  to  the  episcopal  ofiice  in  the 
Establishment  being  made  too  ample  to  allow  of  an  inscrip- 
tion, while  a  countenance  indicative  of  astonishment  at  the 
impropriety  of  such  a  question  in  public,  and  of  perplexity  as 
to  what  were  the  fitting  answer,  might  yet  further  explain  its 
absence  ? 

This,  however,  is  but  b}'  the  way.  We  are  not  ourselves 
anxious  so  much  to  preserve  a  record  of  what  is  passing 
around  us,  as  to  point  out  its  true  character,  and  to  help,  and 
if  possible  even  to  force,  people  to  understand  it.  As  Catho- 
lics, we  have  such  confidence  in  Him  who  fights  for  us,  that  we 
can  at  almost  any  moment  become  bystanders  of  the  contest 
in  which  we  are  engaged  ;  and  like  the  Israelites  of  old,  turn 
round  upon  our  pursuers,  not  to  strike,  but  to  contemplate 
them  struggling  helplessly  in  the  waters  that  are  coming  over 
them,  and  which  must  ere  long  cast  them  up  dead  upon  the 
sea-shore.  Nevertheless,  when  we  see  those  whom  we  have 
looked  up  to  with  respect  both  for  their  characters  and  abili- 
ties,— have  esteemed  as  neighbours,  and,  but  for  their  want  of 
sympathy  with  us  in  the  highest  of  all  concernments,  we 
should  have  added  as  friends, — when  we  see  such  persons 
adopting  a  mode  of  resisting  the  advance  of  Catholicity,  which 
it  is  quite  incomprehensible  to  us  that  they  should  not  see  to 
be  stamped  with  the  devil's  own  mark — as  what  can  only  be 
fitly  used  by  his  agents,  and  in  his  cause — we  must  cry  out. 

But  we  are  writing  what  will  be  mere  enigmas  to  many  of 
our  readers  :  let  us  hasten  to  explain  ourselves. 

Mr.  Richard  Chenevix  Trench  is  a  gentleman,  as  few 
require  to  be  told,  of  considerable  powers  of  mind  and  scho- 
larly attainments  ;  favourably  known  to  the  public  by  works 
both  in  poetry  and  prose.  He  occupies  no  mean  position  in 
the  Establishment,  for  he  is  beneficed  in  the  Diocese  of  Win- 


U50  On  the  Study  of  JFords. 

Chester,  Examining  Chaplain  to  the  Bishop  of  Oxford,  and 
Professor  of  Divinity  in  King's  College,  London  ;  and  is  withal 
highly  amiable  and  respectable  in  private  life.  There  are 
about  him,  therefore,  all  those  accompaniments  of  station  and 
character  which  we  naturally  regard  as  guarantees  for  general 
propriety  and  rectitude,  most  especially  in  all  that  is  printed 
and  published  with  the  author's  name.  Being  such  an  one, 
he  sought  permission  to  deliver  lectures  to  the  Training 
School  for  Masters  at  Winchester,  and,  of  course,  very  easily 
obtained  it.  The  subject  chosen  by  him  was  ably  treated, 
and  the  lectures  were  soon  afterwards  published.  As  they 
appeared  just  at  that  strange  time  when  an  English  Parliament 
laboured  for  a  whole  session  on  the  production  of  an  act  which 
did  nothing  but  register  and  notify  to  all  whom  it  might  con- 
cern, with  super-excellent  success,  something  which  the  Pope 
had  recently  done,  it  w^as  not  unnatunil  they  should  con^ 
tain  some  evidences  that  this  was  the  case.  We  did  not  fo* 
some  time  know  what  they  were,  not  having  chanced  to  meet 
with  the  book  till  very  lately.  When  we  did,  we  found  it  in 
its  "  fourth  edition,  revised :"  a  notice  that  prevents  our  con* 
sidering  its  contents  to  be  any  w-here  the  mere  temporary 
ebullitions  of  Protestant  feeling,  much  as  we  could  have 
wished  to  do  so ;  but  obliges  us  to  regard  them  as  expressions 
of  views  and  teaching  which  their  author  has  fully  considered, 
and  by  which  he  is  resolutely  determined  to  abide. 

The  following  is  the  first  passage  to  which  we  would  draw 
attention : 

"  Doubdess  you  will  ever  seek  to  cherish  in  your  scholars,  tj 
keep  lively  in  yourselves,  that  spirit  and  temper  which  attach 
special  value  and  interest  to  all  having  to  do  with  the  land  of  oi 
birth — that  land  which  the  Providence  of  God  has  assigned, as  th 
sphere  of  our  life's  work  and  of  theirs.  Our  schools  are  calh 
'  national ;'  and  if  we  would  have  them  such  more  than  in  name, 
must  neglect  nodiinor  that  will  assist  us  in  fostering  a  nationa 
spirit  in  them.  I  know  not  whether  this  is  sufficiently  considere 
among  us  ;  yet  certainly  we  cannot  have  church  schools  worthy  the 
name,  and  least  of  all  in  England,  unless  they  are  truly  national  as 
well.  It  is  the  anti-national  character,"  [let  this  be  particularly 
observed]  "  of  the  Romish  system  ....  which  mainly  revolts 
Englishmen,  as  we  have  lately  very  plainly  seen ;  and  if  their  sense 
of  this  should  ever  grow  weak,  their  protest  against  that  system  would 
soon  lose  nearly  all  of  its  energy  and  strength." 

The  words  we  have  omitted  are  these :  *'  Though  I  do  not 
in  the  least  separate  this  from  its  anti-scriptural,  but  rathe] 
regard  the  two  as  most  intimately  cohering  with  one  another. 
They  only  serve  to  distract  the  attention  of  the  reader,  an( 
prevent  his  observing  the  remarkable  admission  contained  ii 


On  the  Study  of  Words.  251 

lie  sentence ;  they  also  require  to  be  noticed  b}^  themselves 
tn  their  own  account. 

The  author's  argument,  then,  seems  to  run  thus  :  "  I  take 
-'^  orranted  that  you  are  men  of  national  predilection,  and  will 

anxious  to  cherish  such  feelings  in  both  yourselves  and 
our  scholars.  Observe,  then,  that  as  masters  of  schools 
-ailed  National,  you  will  be  bound  to  consider  this  a  duty 
vhich  you  must  endeavour  to  perform  by  all  the  means  in 
rour  power.  And  don't  fail  to  remark  that  our  Church 
schools  are  National  also  in  name.  See  that  you  make  them 
;o  in  reality.  Tins  is  the  best  means  I  can  devise  for  pre- 
senting the  spread  of  the  Catholic  religion.  The  antipathy 
of  Englishmen  to  Catholicism  at  the  present  day  rests  more 
3n  the  persuasion  that  it  is  anti-national  than  on  any  thing 
?lse;  so  that  on  your  extending  and  perpetuating  that  j)ersua- 
sion  depends  our  security  against  the  inroads  of  that  religion. 
A.nd  for  my  own  part,  T  can  most  conscientiously  recommend 
'hi-s  course   to  you,  since  I  hold  that  the  an ti- national  and 

1-scriptural  are  so  near  akin,  that  what  is  one  can  hardly 
Hit  be  the  other  also."  We  are  not  aware  of  any  injustice 
done  to  Mr.  Trench  in  thus  putting  his  argument  into  words, 
less  choice  doubtless  than  his  own^  but  which  appear  to  us  to 
convey  his  meaning  more  truly,  because  they  express  dis- 
tinctly w^hat  he  very  naturally  wished  to  keep  in  the  back 
ground,  and  only  imply.  We  believe,  then,  that  we  ma}-  now 
deliberately  charge  him  with  nationalism  ;  the  setting  up,  that 
is,  the  national  verdict  as  of  authority  in  matters  of  religion, — 
the  regarding  the  vox  populi  as  being  to  such  a  degree  the 
vox  Dei,  that  he  can  recommend  it  to  the  instructors  of  youth 
as  their  rule  of  faith.  It  is  really  lamentable  to  think  that 
any  one  so  much  to  be  respected  can  adopt  a  view  so  pre- 
eminently unchristian.  How  can  he,  as  a  Protestant,  be  so 
indifferent  to  what  we  find  in  Scripture  respecting  it  ?  No- 
thing there  is  more  plain  that  that  our  Lord,  in  introducing 
the  new  dispensation,  rejected  the  assistance  of  a  hitherto 
favoured  nation  that  was  expecting  and  longing  to  be  used  for 
the  purpose,  and  that  He  did  this  in  the  most  marked  manner^ 
He  died,  we  know,  for  our  redemption.  This  was  the  cause 
why  He  permitted  Himself  to  be  put  to  death,  but  not  the 
cause  why  His  enemies  sought  his  death.  He  died  a  holo- 
caust for  the  world,  but  also  a  martyr;  like  other  martyrs, 
bearing  witness  to  some  great  truth  of  His  religion.  And 
which  of  them  all  appeared  in  the  eyes  of  the  Infallible  Judge 
to  be  that  for  which  it  would  be  most  instructive  for  us  that 
He  should  die  ?  The  chief-priests  and^  the  Pharisees  held  a 
council,  to  consider  what  should  be  done  respecting  Him,  and 

VOL.  I. NEW  SERIES.  T 


252  071  the  Study  of  Words. 

said :  "  If  we  let  Him  thus  alone,  all  men  will  believe  on  Him, 
and  the  Romans  will  come  and  take  away  both  our  place  and 
nation."  And  the  high-priest  said  that  it  was  expedient  for 
the  people  that  He  should  die.  "  Then  from  that  day  forth 
they  took  counsel  together  how  to  put  Him  to  death."  And 
when  He  was  before  the  Roman  governor,  and  "  Pilate 
sought  to  release  Him,  the  Jews  cried  out,  saying.  If  thou  let 
this  man  go,  thou  art  not  Caesar's  friend,  whosoever  maketl. 
himself  a  king  speaketh  against  Ca}sar.  When  Pilate  there- 
fore heard  that  saying,  he  hesitated  no  longer,  but  brought 
Jesus  forth,  and  sat  down  in  the  judgment-seat."  Thus,  our 
Lord  was  apprehended  as  anti-Jewish,  and  condemned  as  anti- 
Roman.  He  might  have  died  so  as  to  testify  to  the  value  of 
any  other  principle  in  the  religion  He  bequeathed  us,  bn 
He  chose  to  be  the  proto-martyr  of  those  amongst  His  fol- 
lowers— and  they  have  been  many — who  laid  down  their  lives, 
as  being  anti-national.  And  yet  a  Christian,  and  one  who 
accounts  himself  a  minister  of  the  Gospel,  can  desire  men  to 
"keep  lively  in  themselves,"  "cherish"  in  others,  "neglect 
nothing  that  will  assist  them  in  fostering  a  national  spirit" 
with  reference  to  religion  !  Would  that  He  who  alone  can  do 
it,  would  open  his  eyes  to  perceive  whose  tools  he  is  recom- 
mending, and  whose  work  alone  it  is  probable  will  be  done  h; 
them. 

But  while  we  feel  it  no  disgrace,  but  rather  a  thrilling 
pleasure,  to  be  called  anti-national  in  this  sense — for  so  called 
they  our  Lord  and  His  disciples,  and  the  martyrs  generally  of 
the  first  three  centuries — we  must  not  be  supposed  to  admit  for 
a  moment  that   Catholicity  is  really  in  itself  anti-national. 
Society,  w'ith  its  various  and  varying  systems  of  government,  is 
an  ordinance  of  God,  as  well  as  the  Church ;  and  the  one  can- 
not be  essentially  contradictory  of  the  other.     The  Church  is 
simply  un-national.     And  it  becomes,  and  is  denounced  as 
more  than  this,  only  when  the  state,  in  ignorance  or  contempt 
of  its  divine  rights,  interferes  to  thwart  it  in  its  own  domain, 
or  to  absorb  it  into  the  political  system,  as  one  amongst  many 
other  human  institutions.     Were  it  really  anti-national,  the 
facts  of  past  history  would  be  far  other  than  they  are.     We 
should  find  in  that  case  that  as  it  received  nations  within  i* 
pale,  instead  of  adapting  itself  with  the  wonderful  pliancy 
has  to  whatever  existed  amongst  them,  using  its  influence  onl 
to  weed  from  them  what  was  vicious  and  destructive,  and  i 
intellect  and  its  learning  more  fully  to  establish  and  deveh 
their  institutions, — it  would  either  have  dislocated  and  broken 
them  up  into  a  sort  of  Arcadian  barbarism,  or,  changing  scep- 
tres into  crosiers,  and  surmounting  them  with  a  mitre  or  a  hat, 


On  the  Study  of  Words,  253 

lade  Rome  the  centre  of  a  great  civil  as  well  as  ecclesiastical 
mpire.     But   we   know  that  it  has   not  done  this:  though 
tself  the  greatest  of  all  governmental  powers,   possessing  a 
rid-wide  dominion  and  indestructible   vitality,  it  has  not 
iven  to  supplant  the  civil  power,  but  to  uphold  it.     So  far 
leed  is  it  removed  from  natural  antagonism  to  the  authori- 
.-s  of  a  country, — so  much  is  it  inclined  to  conserve  what  is, 
0  help  or  oblige  all  over  whom  it  has  influence  to  make  the 
iest  of  what  exists, — that  if  it  is  chargeable  with  being  the 
;ause  of  civil  mischief  at  all,  it  is  so  much  more  in  this  direc- 
cion  than  in  the  opposite.     How  many  monarchs  of  an  effete 
dynasty  have   succeeded    one  another  with  trembling   hands 
and  idiots'  heads,   and    the   quiet,  legal  orderliness   of  their 
subjects  remained  undisturbed,  simply  because  those  subjects 
were  Catholic,  and  the  Church  was  an  ever-present,  all-pervad- 
ing Deity,  as  it  were,  to  preserve  it !     Under  what  a  series  of 
national  and  persecuting  indignities,  long  drawn  out,  changeful 
yet  ever  the  same,  has  not  Ireland  persevered  under  English 
rule,  and  for  no  other  reason  but  because  she  was  Catholic  ; 
for  though  revolution  be  possible  in  a  Catholic  population,  it 
is  less  probable  than  in  any  other. 

But  we  have  not  space  to  say  more  on  this  subject.  We 
must  turn  to  some  of  the  other  passages  in  the  book  that 
require  notice.  We  have  drawn  attention  to  this  first — though 
it  occurs  near  the  end, — because  there  is  something  about  the 
others  which,  till  this  was  met  with,  we  in  vain  endeavoured 
to  account  for  consistently  with  the  supposition  that  our 
author  would  not  knowingly  do  what  was  wrong. — a  supposi- 
tion which  we  cannot  bear  to  abandon.  Nationality  is  not  to 
be  confounded  with  patriotism;  which  is  the  forgetting  self  in 
the  remembrance  of  those  around  you,  whereas  nationality  is 
an  expansion  of  self,  and  a  taking  up  into  it  of  those  around 
}"0u.  And  he  who  rejects  that  which  comes  to  him  with  the 
professions  and  claims  of  *•'  the  truth,"  because  it  is  anti- 
national,  is  exactly  on  a  par  (morally)  with  him  who  does  so 
because  he  perceives  it  to  condemn  himself.  And  when,  un- 
happily, he  has  possessed  himself  with  the  idea  that  nationalism 
is  but  an  acquiescence  in  God's  providence,  and  has  enthroned 
it  in  his  Protestant  mind  as  scriptural,  it  leads  him  under  a 
stern  necessity  to  treat  Catholicity  with  the  same  towering 
scorn  and  reckless  injustice  which  it  receives  from  those  who 
hate  it  from  its  protesting  against  their  personal  vices. 
But  pp.  10,  11  afford  an  instance  of  what  we  mean. 

"Where  a  perversion  of  the  moral  sense  has  found  place,  words 
preserve  oftentimes  a  record  of  this  perversion.  We  have  a  signal 
example  of  this — even  as  it  is  a  notable  evidence  of  the  manner 


^54  On  the  Study  of  Words, 

m  which  moral  contagion,  spreading  from  heart  and  manners,  invades 
the  popular  language  in  the  use,  or  ratlier  misuse,  of  tlie  word 
•religion' — during  all  the  ages  of  Papal  domination  in  Europe. 
Probably  many  of  you  are  aware  that  in  those  times  a  '  religious 
person  '  did  not  mean  any  one  who  felt  and  allowed  the  bonds  that 
bound  him  to  God  and  his  fellow-men,  but  one  who  had  taken  pecu- 
liar vows  upon  iiim,  a  member  of  one  of  the  monkish  orders  ;  a 
*  religious'  house  did  not  mean,  nor  does  it  now  mean  in  theCiuircli 
of  Rome,  a  Christian  household  ordered  in  the  face  of  God,  but  a 
house  in  which  these  persons  were  gathered  together  according  to 
the  rule  of  some  man,  Benedict,  or  Dominic,  or  some  odier.  A 
'  religion '  meant  not  a  service  of  God,  but  an  order  of  monkery ; 
and  taking  the  monastic  vow^s  was  termed  going  into  a  '  religion.' 
Now  what  an  awful  light  does  this  one  word,  so  used,  throw  on  d; 
entire  state  of  mind  and  habits  of  thought  in  those  ages  !  That 
this  was  '  religion,'  and  nothing  else  was  deserving  of  the  name ! 
And  religion  was  a  title  which  might  not  be  given  to  parents  and 
children,  husbands  and  wives,  men  and  women  fulfilling  foidjfully 
and  holily  in  the  world  the  several  duties  of  their  stations,  but  on!; 
to  those  who  had  devised  self-chosen  service  for  tliernselves." 

Of  course,  one  who  is  Professor  of  Divinity  in  King's  Col- 
lege, London,  and  Examining  Chaplain  to  the  Bishop  of 
Oxford,  is  as  well  aware  as  ourselves  that  Christians,  "  during 
the  ages  of  Papal  domination,"  had  a  religion  binding  tr.cm 
in  love  and  duty  to  God  and  their  fellow-men,  besides  that 
of  the  "religious"  in  "religious  houses;"  that  the  sense  at- 
tached to  the  word  "  religion  "  did  not  exclude  tlie  idea  of  a 
service  of  God,  but  did  essentially  include  it;  and  that  the 
word  was,  and  is,  used  by  Catholics,  as  he  describes,  not  to 
signify  that  the  persons  and  houses  thus  denominated  and 
they  alone  are  religious,  but  because  all  Catholics  being  as 
such,  in  obligation  at  least,  religious,  these  are  so  by  a  more 
solemn  offering  up  and  devotion  of  th.emselvcs  to  God.  To 
suppose  otliervvise  would  be  to  do  a  grievous  injustice  to  the 
author  himself,  to  the  learned  body  of  which  he  is  a  professor, 
and  the  distinguished  prelate  whose  chaplain  he  is.  He 
knows  all  this  well ;  but  the  Catholics  are  anti-national,  and 
"  we  must  neglect  nothing  that  will  assist  us  in  fostering  a 
national  spirit."  This  preposterous  nationalism  so  blinds  him, 
that  he  thinks  he  cannot  be  wrong  in  doing  to  Catholics  what 
(we  are  sure)  he  would  be  amongst  the  first  to  denounce  as 
most  flagrantly  dishonest  and  unjust  if  done  to  any  others,    jj 

It  ma}^  be  worth  observing,  before  passing  on,  that  Pro- 
testants retain  the  Catholic  idea  in  their  use  of  this  word  to  ; 
much  greater   extent  than   Mr.   Trench    seems    to    suppose. 
Five  and  twenty  years  ago,  if  not  at  the  present  day,  "  not  to 
be  religious"  did  not  mean  "'  to  be  without  religion;"  and  many 


On  the  Study  of  Words.  ^^^ 

imongst  the  lower  classes  may  be  heard  now  to  avow^  unhesi- 
atmgly  that  they  are  of  "  no  religion  ;"  and  then  go  on  to 
-xplain  that  they  never  joined  any,  but  read  their  Bibles  at 
lome,  and  went  to  hear  sometimes  one  preacher  and  some- 
limes  another,  just  where  they  could  get  good.  Of  course,  the 
Catholic  is  no  accidental  use,  and  still  less  a  misuse  of  the 
•vord.  It  is  its  Christian  use,  that  which  necessarily  results 
::rom  our  having  a  revelation  in  which  there  is  so  much  which 
men  cannot  receive,  except  those  to  whom  it  is  given.  Mr. 
Trench's  use  is  the  natural,  the  classical,  and — would  that  he 
kvo'uld  consider  it — the  heathen. 

The  passage  last  quoted  is  immediately  followed  by  an- 
other, which  we  must  extract ;  and  it  shall  be  the  last  with 
which  we  will  trouble  our  readers. 

"  In  like  manner  that  '  lewd,'  which  meant  at  one  time  no 
more  dian  '  lay/  or  unlearned, — the  '  lewd '  people,  die  lay 
people, — should  come  to  signify  the  sinful,  the  vicious,  is  not  a 
little  worthy  of  note.     How  forcibly  we  are  reminded  here  of  that 

ing  of  the  Pharisees  of  old  :  'This  people  which  knoweth  not 
...o  law  is  cursed ;'  how  much  of  dieir  spirit  must  have  been  at 
work  before  the  word  could  have  acquired  this  secondary  meaning  !" 

But  when  was  it  that  this  secondary  meaning  made  its 
appearance  ?  We  could  scarcely  believe  our  eyes  when,  on 
turning  to  Richardson,  which  is  Mr.  Trench's  great  authority 
in  these  matters,  we  found  that  it  came  in  at  the  time  of  that 
blessed  Reformation,  when  even  Protestant  historians  are 
forced  to  confess  that  the  English  fell  into  a  state  of  most 
general  and  fearful  depravity.     Previously  Chaucer  could  say  : 

"  Ya  blessed  be  alway  a  lewed  man, 
That  nought  but  only  his  beleve  can." 

Neither  "  lay  "  nor  *'  lewd  "  were  terms  conveying  an  idea  in 
any  way  disrespectful  to  the  minds  of  our  Catholic  ancestors. 
Still,  of  course  the  want  of  learning  implied  by  them  was  not 
felt  to  be  a  title  to  respect.  Though  not  a  fault,  it  was  a 
misfortune;  a  disadvantage  that  made  the  talker  a  babbler. 
id  thus  we  find  in  the  same  writer: 

"  Thou  malcest  me 
So  weary  of  thy  veray  levvednesse, 
That  al  so  wisely  God  my  soul  blesse, 
Min  ere  aken  of  thy  drafty  (worthless)  speche." 

This  is  the  only  instance  given  by  Richardson  of  the  word 
being  used  in  a  necessarily  disparaging  sense  before  the  era 
we  have  mentioned.  Afterwards,  it  speedily  attained  its  pre- 
sent meaning  ;  and  there  seems  to  have  been  some  chance  of 
*lay'  having  it  too;  for  Milton  speaks  of  "an  unprincipled, 
unedify'd,  and  laie-rabble."     And  Gay  says : 


256  On  the  Study  of  Words, 

"  These  indiscretions  give  a  handle 

To  lewd  lay  tongues  to  give  us  scandal." 

Who,  then,  have  been  the  haughty  Pharisees  ?  the  olden  Ca- 
tholic clergy,  or  the  Reformers  and  their  successors  ?  It  is 
sad  to  remark,  too,  that  not  only  do  the  examples  in  Richard- 
son prove  what  we  have  said,  but  he  pointedly  remarks,  that 
the  present  use  of  the  word  is  *  modern.'  He,  indeed,  with 
others,  derives  the  word  from  an  Anglo-Saxon,  that  means  to 
mislead,  or  beguile;  which,  he  thinks  (not  very  wisely),  makes 
it  nearly  equivalent  to  wicked.  But  the  passages  he  gives  us 
do  not  show  us  the  word  once  used  in  that  sense ;  and  this 
is  a  fully  sufficient  answer  to  the  unsupported  supposition. 
'Lewd'  having  been  supposed  by  the  Protestant  lexicogra- 
pher to  be  derived  from  a  root  that  answers  (be  it  remem- 
bered) to  its  modern  sense,  and  to  that  only  ;  and  May'c- 

*  lewd  '  found  to  have  been  anciently  used  indifferently, — '  lay 
has  been  thought  to  have  also  come  from  the  same  root  a? 
'  lewed  *  ;  and  thus  the  clergy,  we  are  desired  to  conclude, 
looked  on  all  who  were  not  of  their  order,  as  beguiled,  misled 
people,  and  gave  them  a  name  that  signified  this.  If,  how- 
ever, we  reverse  this  process — and  there  is  no  etymological 
reason  why  we  should  not — and  examine  *lay  '  first,  and  argue 
from  May  '  to  *lewd,'  we  arrive  at  a  very  different  conclusion. 
A  *  layman '  is  a  man  who  sings  '  lays,'  a  word  signifying  in 
old  times  not  only  the  metrical  ballad,  but  also  whistling,  and 
every  kind  of  low  humming  sound  that  had  tune  in 
Evidently,  therefore,  our  ancestors  had  observed  that  gr( 
distinction  between  the  learned  and  the  unlearned,  that 
latter  whistled  as  he  went  for  want  of  thought,  hummed  soi 
tune,  or  sang  a  strain  of  some  ballad,  while  the  former  "sc 
tude  in  silence,  seldom  less  alone  than  when  alone,"  did 
speak  unless  he  thought  he  could  do  so  to  good  purpose;  a^ 
hence  they  gave  the  latter  a  name  descriptive  of  this  peculiarit 

*  Lewd,'  used  in  the  same  sense  as  '  lay,'  is  doubtless  of  li) 
origin ;  and  with  all  due  deference  to  those  who  are  learned  iv 
Anglo-Saxon  and  its  kindred  dialects,  we  would  hazard  tli 
conjecture  that  if  a  draughtsman  be  one  who  draws,  a  lewd  ma; 
may  have  been  one  who  sang  lays.  This  view  of  the  mattei 
is  consistent  with  what  we  know  was  the  character  of  the  old 
Catholic  clergy,  and  also  with  the  remains  of  their  literatun 
that  have  come  down  to  us. 

Meanwhile    we  are  forjjettinfy    Mr.   Trench.     There   aj 
other  passages  in  his  work  painfully  exemplifying  the  an 
gance  and  virulence  with  which  he  regards  every  thing  cc 
nected  with  us.     Accustomed  as  we  are  to  the  display  oi 
great  deal  of  this  on  all  sides  of  us,  we  are  sorry  to  say  tl 


Our  Picture  in  the  Census.  257 

lis,  all  its  circumstances  considered,  much  exceeds  that  of 
nost.  It  is  intense,  violent,  unreasoning,  unscrupulous ;  it  is 
Orange.  And  yet  Mr.  Trench  is  really  all  that  we  said  of 
lim  at  first,  and  we  dare  say  much  more;  but  being  a 
NationaHst,  and  feeling  himself  called  on  to  "  devise  some 
means  for  preventing  the  spread  of  the  Roman  Catholic  reli- 
gion," he  is  made  to  forget  what  is  due  to  himself,  to  his 
station,  and  to  us.  What  a  sacrifice  to  make  for  the  further- 
ance of  the  unhallowed  cause  !  What  demon  has  required  it 
of  him  ?  *^  And  taking  his  eldest  son  that  should  have  reigned 
in  his  stead,  he  offered  him  for  a  burnt-offering  upon  the  wall; 
and  there  was  great  indignation  throughout  Israel ;  and  they 
straightway  departed  from  him,  and  returned  into  their  own 
land." 


OUR  PICTURE  IN  THE  CENSUS. 

Census  of  Great  Britain ^  18.51.  Religious  Worship  in  Eng- 
land and  Wales.  Report  and  Tables  presented  to  both 
Houses  of  Parliament  J  bij  Command  of  her  Majesty.     1853. 

So  we  have  been  numbered.     We  have  been  told  long  ago  by 
a  great  public  instructor,  that  we  are  a  nation  habitually  ad- 
dicted   to    arithmetic ;    and   now  the  Registrar-General  and 
bis  merry  men,  and  that  king   of  men,   Mr.  Horace  Mann, 
have  gone  into  figures  for  us  in  our  decennial  census   to  a 
most  gratifying  extent.     It  is  something  to  be   an  arithme- 
tical nation  ;  but  to  be  arithmetic  itself  is  more  than  the  most 
ardent  Cockers  could  have  thought   of.     We   have   become 
figures.     We  have  been  pounded  into  fractions.     Our  nume- 
rators have  been  Mr.  Horace  Mann  and  the  30,610  lesser  men 
all  over  the  country,  who  have  been  employed  in  obtaining  the 
*•'  exact  and  faithful  picture  of  the  religious  state  of  England 
and  Wales."     And  the  denominators  have  been  no  less  than 
five-and-thirty  "  Christian  Churches,"  according  to  the   Re- 
gistrar's-office  definition  (for  we  suppose  that  a  definition  does 
exist  there)   of  a  Christian   Church,  besides  isolated  bodies, 
which  have  obstinately,  and  contrary  to  all  sound  arithmetic, 
refused  to  have  any  denominator,  although  compulsorily  en- 
joying a  numerator.   We  have  been  squared  and  cubed,  and  have 
had  all  manner  of  roots  extracted  out  of  us;  most  of  them 
very  bitter.     We  have  been  put  into  pews  and  sittings,  and 
we  Catholics  have  been  specially  put   into  standings.     And 
having  been  worked  backwards  and  forwards,  no  doubt  to  the 
content  of  the  popular  religious  heart,  we  offer  to  astonished 
Christendom  such  a  spectacle  of  religious  figures,  analysis,  and 


f358  Oar  Picture  in  the  Census, 

synthesis,  as  must  realise  the  wildest  hopes  of  the  office  and 
the  nation.  We  must  actually  be  giving  food  to  an  unknown 
number  of  calculating  boys.  The  religious  worship  '•'  Sup- 
plement" is  also  a  supplement  to  all  "  Tutors'  Assistants  ;'* 
and  every  Mr.  Feeder,  B.A.,  must  have  begun  the  duties  of 
this  new  year  with  a  new  store  of  examples,  and  a  liveliness  of 
arithmetical  fose  plastiqiie  which  will  terminate  the  lives  of 
many  little  Pauls.  In  short,  as  a  supplement  to  the  great 
blue  book  of  British  life  and  death,  has  been  issued  a  brown 
book  about  religious  worship  in  England  and  Wales.  And 
this  has  been  condensed  (also  officially)  into  a  pale  green 
book^  published  by  Routledge  at  a  shilling,  for  universal  con- 
sumption. We  utterly  reject  to-day  all  consideration  of  the 
blue  book,  and  are  going  to  addict  ourselves  once  more  to 
the  brown  and  the  green. 

But  before  entering  upon  the  theology  (;f  the  office  of  the 
Registrar- General,  we  beg  to  submit  to  the  numerators,  and 
to  all  non-Catholic  denominators  and  denominations  (except, 
ris  we  suppose  w^e  must  except  on  this  point,  the  schismatic 
Greek  Church),  the  following  scriptural  difficulty;  for  a  diffi- 
culty we  think  it  ought  to  be  to  them..  Have  these  gentlemen 
and  societies  sufficiently  considered  the  24'th  chapter  of  what 
is  called  in  their  Bibles  the  Second  Book  of  Samuel  ? 

*' And  the  anger  of  the  Lord  was  ngaiii  kindled  against  Israel^ 
and  stirred  up  David  among  them,  saying :  *  Go  number  Israel  and 
Juda.  And  the  king  said  to  Joab,  the  general  of  his  army  :  Go 
through  all  the  tribes  of  Israel  from  Dan  to  Bersabee,  and  number 
ye  the  people,  that  I  may  know  the  number  of  them.  And  Joab  said 
to  the  king  ....  what  meaneth  my  lord  the  king  by  this  kind  oi 
thing  ?  But  the  king's  words  prevailed  ....  and  Joab  gave  up  thei 
sum  of  the  number  of  the  people  to  the  king.  But  David's  heart 
struck  him  after  the  people  were  numbered  ;  and  David  said  to  tht 
Lord,  I  have  sinned  very  much  in  what  I  have  done  :  but  I  pray 
Thee,  O  Lord,  to  take  away  the  iniquity  of  Tiiy  servant,  because 

have  done  exceeding  foolishly And  the  Lord  sent  a  pestilence 

upon  Israel,  from  die  morning  unto  the  time  appointed  :  and  there 
died  of  the  people  from  Dan  to  Bersabee  seventy  thousand  men." 

According  to  the  usual  handling  of  Holy  Scripture  by 
Protestant  expounders,  we  should  be  glad  to  hear  a  religious 
theory  of  the  census  of  England  and  Wales.  There  was  one 
thing  that  David  did  not  do.  He  made  no  inquiry  into  the 
religious  worship  of  the  Jebusites.  And  in  his  census  there 
is  no  allusion  whatever  to  any  denominational  or  connexional 
arrangements.  The  case  of  Core,  Dathan,  and  Abiron  was 
not  forgotten  in  a  nation  which  lived  under  the  immediate  in- 
fluence of  the  presence  of  God.     And  probably  the  terrific 


Oar  Picture  in  the  Census,  S59 

particularity  with  wliicli  that  awful  scene  is  related  in  the 
Book  of  Numbers,  had  quenched  all  desire  for  a  census  of  re- 
ligious worship,  severed  from  the  only  worship  which  God  had 
instituted.  David  sinned  grievously  in  the  sight  of  God  ;  but 
he  did  not  do  this.  He  slew  them.  This  was  his  first  business 
on  capturing  Sion.  We  are  not  drawing  any  inference  ;  we 
only  mention  these  circumstances,  recorded  in  the  Old  Testa- 
ment, as  things  worthy  of  Protestant  attention.  But  this  is  a 
digression. 

Mr.  Horace  Mann  has  authenticated,  in  his  own  person 
and  calling,  the  statement  of  Pope.  He,  Mr.  Horace  Mann, 
has  actually  become  "  the  proper  study  of  mankind."  His 
figures,  as  they  bear  upon  us,  are  (no  doubt  undesignedly) 
utterly  fallacious;  and  we  protest  against  them.  They  are, 
however,  conclusive  against  all  who  furnished  them,  and  do 
not  protest  against  them  ;  and  so  of  his  statements  generally. 
And  it  must  be  admitted  that  this  gentleman  has  never  been 
drawn  away  from  his  luxurious  riot  in  figures,  to  give  any 
direct  intimation  of  any  peculiarities  of  belief  prevalent  in 
the  office  whose  servant  he  has  been.  Father  Newman  has 
described,  as  only  Father  Newman  can,  the  prejudiced  man. 
It  is  now  our  delightful  lot  to  have  discovered  a  man  who  is 
the  precise  opposite  of  that  character.  He  describes  himself 
as  "indulging  a  hope  that  his  remarks  are  free  from  bias;" 
"  that  he  has  been  describing  fairly  the  opinions  of  others,  but 
not  presuming  to  express  his  own."  It  is  the  ambition  of 
many  persons  to  veil  from  their  hearers  or  readers  the  know- 
ledge of  what  sort  of  minister  they  sit  under.  Mr.  Horace 
Mann  has  gone  a  step  further  ;  he  has  veiled  this  usual  for- 
mula. But  we  assure  him  that  we  perfectly  understand  him  ; 
and  we  freely  own  that  v/e  remain  in  most  complete  igno- 
rance of  the  nature  of  the  minister,  if  any,  under  whom  he  has 
elected  to  sit.  We  pronounce  him  to  be  pre-eminently  "tlie 
unprejudiced  man." 

In  what  follows,  then,  we  propose  briefly  to  tell  those 
readers  of  the  Rambler  who  have  not  plunged  into  the  brow^n 
or  the  pale  green  book — or  having  done  so,  may  like  to  hear  a 
httle  more  of  them — something  about  the  several  denomina- 
tions in  England  and  Wales,  and  something  about  the  Catho- 
lic Church  ;  and  then,  recollecting  that  divine  authority  winch 
tells  us  that  by  their  fruits  we  shall  know  them,  we  will  give, 
on  Protestant  authority,  a  specimen  of  what  has  come  upon 
England  since  she  has  been  given  over  to  those  societies  which, 
in  the  theology  of  the  ofi[ice,  are  described  as  "  Christian 
Churches." 

Sjiecialum  admissi,  risiim  teneaiis,  amici  ? 


260  Our  Picture  in  the  Census. 

Contrary  to  the  usual  practice  of  dramatic  entertainments, 
we  shall  produce  the  ludicrous  and  absurd — in  short,  the  great 
original  farce  of  England — first.  Mr.  Mann,  the  real  epic  suc- 
cessor of  ava^  avBpcov  of  Homer,  will  see  that  we  are  using 
him  according  to  the  constitutional  riglits  of  the  republic  of 
letters.  He  has  given  us  his  epic  :  we  have  from  his  immor- 
tal pen  an  English  and  Welsh  Iliad :  he  has  sung,  as  no  one 
else  has  sung,  the  fatal  rage : 

Ov\ofxivi]v,  7]  fjivpi'  'Axajots  6.\y^^  edrjKc. 

— we  dread  to  quote  the  next  line,  and  will  not.  And  we, 
finding  such  a  composition  ready  to  our  hands,  are  going  to 
give  a  dramatic  life  to  it.  He  will,  we  are  sure,  at  once  hail 
us  as  allies;  and  in  his  next  Iliad  he  may  perhaps  catalogue 
us  with  a  little  more  attention  to  our  leaders  and  our  localities, 
as  well  as  our  numbers  :  he  must  not  forget  his  model  in  the 
Homeric  census  in  Iliad  B. 

We  look  upon  the  publication  of  this  census  of  religious 
worship  as  the  first  great  official  enunciation  of  unbelief.  Of 
course  it  does  not  profess  to  be  this  ;  for  the  expression  "  re- 
ligious worship,"  absurd  as  it  is,  means  to  say,  if  it  means  any 
thing,  that  the  worshippers  believe  something.  Nevertheless, 
we  maintain  that  the  book  is,  as  we  have  said,  a  great  expres- 
sion of  unbelief ;  and  it  is  the  first  of  this  character  that  has  ever 
appeared  in  England.  Our  separated  Anglican  brethren  maj^ 
refer  indeed  to  numberless  instances  of  individual  unbelief,  an< 
to  a  pretty  prevalent  latitudinarianism  throughout  the  countr 
for  a  very  long  period  past, — a  latitudinarianism  which  has  beei 
gradually  and  steadily  widening  ever  since  the  time  of  thi 
Reformation.  Elizabeth,  who  unchained  the  devil,  smarte( 
under  him,  and  could  not  repress  him.  Her  successor,  in  spite 
of  the  Savoy  conference,  and  the  new  version  of  the  BibleJ 
and  in  spite  of  burning  a  couple  of  heretics,  in  a  generou^ 
rivalry  with  the  great  occidental  star  who  had  preceded  him, 

"Sol  occubuit,  nox  nulla  secitta  est,'''' 

was  utterly  beaten,  and  died  in  good  time  for  himself.  Charles  I., 
Laud,  and  Strafford,  and  most  of  the  Protestant  bishops,  fought 
hard  against  their  enemy ;  but  it  was  too  much  for  them,  and 
we  all  know  tl»e  result.  After  eight-and-twenty  years  of  resto- 
ration and  bitter  contests,  the  turbulent  spirit  triumphed  ;  and 
Dutch  William  set  his  heel  upon  all  the  fidse  ideas  of  the 
supernatural  in  Protestant  establishments.  And  so  we  arrive, 
by  a  most  natural  and  inevitable  process,  at  the  snug  para- 
graphs which  describe  the  Protestant  Establishment,  which  \^ 
the  leading  member  of  a  good  division  according  to  money.  _ 
It  is  the  one  *'  endowed"  Protestant  Church  ;  the  leading  i^®*^ 


Our  Picture  in  the  Census.  261 

of  the  Report  being  "  endowed"  and  "  unendowed."  *'  The 
Revolution,"  says  this  last  and  greatest  authority,  "  settled  the 
Established  Church  upon  its  present  basis."  It  certainly  did  ; 
moreover,  it  produced  men  who,  if  they  could  have  had  their 
way,  would  have  reformed  out  of  the  Protestant  Prayer-book 
the  poor  remains  of  what  had  been  pillaged  from  Catholic  de- 
votions, and  would  have  anticipated  the  present  spirit  of  the 
age.  But  although  these  men  failed  in  their  purpose,  they 
nevertheless  communicated  their  spirit  to  their  Establishment, 
and  produced  those  wonders  of  unbelief  in  regard  to  the  most 
sacred  objects  of  Christian  faith,  the  wonder  of  which  is  now 
beginning  to  be  swallowed  up  in  their  universal  prevalence* 
Many  of  our  readers  will  recollect  that  stern  and  affecting  pre- 
face which  the  great  Butler,  the  profoundest  thinker  on  reli- 
gion whom  English  Protestantism  has  produced,  put  before 
his  work  on  the  Analogy  of  Religion,  a  work  which  leads 
directly  and  logically  to  the  embracing  of  the  Catholic  reli- 
gion, although  that  brilliant  mind  did  not,  in  writing  at  least, 
carry  his  fine  argument  to  its  just  conclusion  ;  there  are  those 
who  think  that  in  his  last  days  he,  in  his  own  person,  did  ac- 
cept it.  However,  be  this  as  it  may,  Butler  actually  thought 
it  necessary  in  that  preface  to  warn  the  infidel  nation  in  which 
he  lived,  that  there  might  after  all  be  something  in  Christianity  ; 
and  we  may  be  allowed  to  give  a  very  striking  instance  of  the 
necessity  and  appositeness  of  this  warning.  There  was  in  the 
last  century  a  man  named  Conyers  Middleton.  He  was  a  man 
of  mark ;  he  was  public  librarian  at  Cambridge.  He  held 
more  than  one  benefice,  and  died  a  beneficed  minister  of  the 
established  religion  ;  though  not,  we  are  told — without  excit- 
ing wonder  on  our  part — a  very  constant  attendant  on  the  ser- 
vices of  that  religion.  He  went  to  Rome,  and  wrote  a  foolish, 
impudent,  and  lying  *'  Letter  from  Rome,  showing  an  exact 
conformity  between  Popery  and  Paganism,"  a  work  which  has 
been  the  pattern  and  inspiration  of  subsequent  libellers,  such 
as  Hobart  Seymour,  for  example,  who  refers  to  him.  Now 
Middleton's  account  of  that  awful  history  which  w^e  find  in 
Genesis,  commonly  known  as  the  fall  of  man,  is  as  follows : 

"  I  will  grant  it"  (the  account  of  the  Fall)  "  to  come  from 
Moses,  and  that  Moses  ivas  commissioned  by  God  to  write  it ;  yet 
this  makes  no  difference  in  the  case,  because  the  matter  of  the  whole 
story,  whether  it  be  inspired  or  not,  is  absolutely  inconsistent  with 
the  character  of  an  historical  narration,  and  must  ever  convince  all 
who  consider  it  without  prejudice,  that  it  is  wholly  fabulous  or  alle- 
gorical, and  that  Moses'  commission  was  accommodated  on  this 
occasion,  as  it  is  allowed  to  have  been  on  many  others,  to  the  pre- 
vailing taste  and  customs  of  the  nations  around  him Thus, 


26i2  Our  Picture  in  the  Cejisus. 

the  plantation  of  a  Paradise  for  the  liabitation  of  men  ;  the  tree  of 
life,  and  the  tree  of  the  knowledge  of  good  and  evil  in  the  midst  of 
it ;  the  expulsion  of  Adam  out  of  it  after  his  fall ;  the  cherubim  and 
flaming  sword,  placed  as  a  guard  to  it ;  God  coming  down  to  walk 
in  it,  in  the  cool  of  the  day  ;  Adam  hiding  himself  among  the  trees 
from  the  sight  of  God  ;  the  discourse  of  the  serpent,  and  the  curse 
pronounced  upon  him  by  God,  and  upon  the  ground  itself;  must  all 
be  considered  as  a  mere  eastern  fable,  from  which  no  other  lesson 
or  doctrine  can  be  inferred  than  what  I  have  already  intimated.  .  .  . 
This,  I  say,  is  the  whole  which  we  can  rationally  collect  from  the 
Mosaic  account  of  the  fall ;  but,  to  draw  divine  and  literal  prophecies 
out  of  a  mere  fable,  and  to  treat  it  as  the  support  of  all  religion  in 
tlie  antediluvian  world,  and  the  foundation  of  all  the  prophetic  evi- 
dence which  the  Christian  religion  has,  is  more  likely  to  weaken 
than  confirm  the  authority  of  Christianity  ;  and  deserves  rather  to 
be  ranked  among  the  dreams  of  visionaries  and  enthusiasts,  than 
considered  as  the  sugjzestion  of  sober  sense  and  reason.*'* 

"VVe  put  it  to  any  moderate-minded  man,  whether  Chris- 
tianity could  be  expected  to  survive  such  statements  as  these; 
whether,  in  fact,  there  is  any,  the  slightest,  claim  upon  us  to 
exercise  the  courtesy  of  considering  a  religion  and  a  nation 
Christian,  which  could  maintain  to  the  last  as  one  of  its  bene- 
ficed ministers  such  a  man  as  this,  and  receive  with  appro- 
bation, and  purchase  a  handsome  octavo  edition  of  his  works, 
on  tlie  title-page  of  which  he  is  described  as  the  Reverend 
and  Learned  Conyers  Middleton  ?  Did  he  and  his  fellow- 
Protestants,  then,  expect  that  persons  would  accept  his  state- 
ment, that  Moses  was  commissioned  by  God  to  write  a  lie ; 
and  yet  at  the  same  time  believe  that  there  was  any  truth 
whatever  in  man's  ever  having  fallen  from  innocence  into  sin? 
Or,  that  there  ever  arose  a  necessity  for  an  atonement,  and  the 
victorious  cross  of  Christ?  No:  he  expected  no  such  thing. 
The  warning  which  Butler  had  given  several  years  before,  was 
at  once  needed  and  useless.  Middleton  and  his  readers,  the 
polite  infidels  of  George  the  Second's  court  —  that  court  of 
which  Lord  Hervey,  with  posthumous  benevolence,  has  made 
us  masters — and  the  rural  parsons,  "  much  bemus'd  in  beer," 
were  all  united  in  treating  with  the  utmost  indifference,  if 
not  with  contempt,  the  sacred  mysteries  of  Revelation,  until 
the  Methodists  came  to  the  rescue,  and  insisted  upon  main- 
taining some  belief  in  Jesus. 

Li  1772,  things  had  naturally  got  a  little  further.  We 
will  quote  now  from  an  essay  entitled  '*  Clmrcli  Parties," 
which  has  been  lately  reprinted  from  the  I^dinburgh  Review 
for  last  October,  and  which  (a  subsequent  newspaper  squabble 


Vol.  V.  pp.  230,  281,  ed.  1755,  Louaoa. 


0\ir  Picture  in  the  Census,  2G3 

has  informed  us)  is  written  by  Mr.  Convbeare,  son  of  tlie 
Dean  of  LlandafF;  so  we  quote  from  a  writer  of  some  au- 
thority, we  suppose,  on  such  subjects. 

"  In  die  last  century,"  says  j\Ir.  Conybeare,  "  the  comprehensive 
Christianity  (!)  of  Tillotson  and  Burnet  degenerated  into  the  world- 
liness  of  the  Sadducean  Hoadley.*  And  the  unbelieving  petitioners 
of  the  Feathers'  Tavern  represented  the  opinions  of  many  hundreds 
of  their  brethren,  whose  scepticism  was  manifested,  not  by  public 
protests,  but  by  silent  neglect  of  their  duties,  and  selfish  devotion 
to  their  interests."     Mr.  Conybeare  adds  this  note — 

"  In  1772,  250  clergymen  presented  this  Feathers' Tavern  Peti- 
tion to  Parliament.  Its  prayer  was  that  the  petitioners  might  be 
*  relieved'  from  subscription  to  the  Thirty-nine  Articles,  '  and  re- 
stored to  their  rights,  as  Protestants,  of  interpreting  Scripture  for 
themselves,  without  being  bound  by  any  human  explications  t)iereof.* 
The  whole  petition,  whicli  is  too  long  to  quote  here,  is  the  most 
naive  avow^al  of  dishonesty  on  record,  and  leaves  the  modern  advo- 
cates of  a  '  non-natural  sense'  far  behind.  Paley,  in  the  pamphlet 
which  he  published  in  defence  of  these  petitioners,  acknowledges 
that  they  '  continue  in  the  Church,  without  being  able  to  reconcile 
to  their  belief  every  proposition  imposed  upon  them  by- subscrip- 
tion ;'  and  speaks  of  them  as  *  impatient  under  the  yoke'  (Paley  s 
Collected  Works,  p.  362).  This  pamphlet  was  published  anony- 
mously at  the  time  ;  and  it  is  said  that,  when  Paley  was  himself 
urged  to  sign  the  petition,  on  the  ground  that  he  '  w'as  bound  in 
conscience'  to  do  so,  he  replied  that  he  '  was  too  poor  to  keep  a 
conscience.' " 

And  in  another  note,  on  the  same  page,  he  gives  this  further 
information  : 

"  Hoadley  defends  (in  his  Reasonableness  of  Conformity)  the 
practice  of  signing  the  Articles  without  believing  them.  Hume's 
correspondence  contains  his  reply  to  a  young  clergyman  who  had 
confessed  his  disbelief  in  Christianity,  and  asked  the  philosoplier's 
advice.  Hume  recommends  him  *  to  adhere  to  the  ecclesiastical 
profession,  in  which  he  may  have  so  good  a  patron,  for  civil  em- 
ployments for  men  of  letters  can  scarcely  be  found.  It  is  putting 
too  great  a  respect  on  the  vulgar,  and  on  their  superstitions,  to 
pique  oneself  on  sincerity  with  regard  to  them.  The  ecclesiastical 
profession  only  adds  a  little  more  to  the  innocent  dissimulation,  with- 
out which  it  is  impossible  to  pass  through  tlie  world.'  (Burton's 
Hume,  vol.  ii.  p.  187.)  Scott's  Force  of  Truth  is  a  remarkable 
autobiography  of  a  man  who  was  ordained  on  the  same  principles. "f 

By  infamies  like  those  now  recited  on  Protestant  evidence 

*  The  Cathch'c  will  recollect  what  the  Sadducees  taught,  but  may  need  to 
be  told  that  Hoadley  was  Protestant  Bishop  of  Bangor  and  Sarum  and  Wiuton. 

t  Catholics  raay  require  to  have  it  nGentioned  that  this  Scott  is  the  man  who 
wrote  a  ponderous  "  Commentary  "  on  the  Bible,  and  is  now  known  among  the 
Evangelicals  as  "  the  Commentator." 


264  Our  Picture  in  the  Ceiuus, 

alone,  the  sacred  sanction  of  religious  belief  was  not  indeed 
lost,  but  was  brought  to  actual  derision.  And  hence  grew 
up  every  variety  of  error  and  misbelief.  Christendom  saw, 
and  saw  without  surprise — and  Christendom  will  now  see,  but 
scarcely  without  some  surprise  in  foreign  countries,  we  think — 
the  termination  of  one  era  of  infidelity  in  another;  under  the 
influence  of  which  last  ail  variations  of  misbelief  actually  ob- 
tain a  public  recognition,  by  state  authority,  as  "  Christian 
Churches."  The  Report  before  us  takes  up  latitudinarianism 
as  it  finds  it  in  1851  ;  and  bestows,  as  far  as  it  can  bestow, 
the  name  of  "Christian  Church"  upon  every  one  of  the  broken 
cisterns  set  up  in  England  to  mock  the  thirst  of  those  who 
have  missed  their  way  to  the  only  fountain  of  living  water. 
The  names  of  these  Christian  Churches,  of  those  at  least  which 
are  Protestant,  are,  the  Church  of  England ;  Presbyterians ; 
Independents  ;  Baptists, — Baptists  General,  New  Connexion, 
Particular,  Seventh  Day,  Scotch  Baptists,  and  Baptists  unde- 
fined;  Society  of  Friends;  Unitarians;  Moravians;  Wesleyau 
Methodists,  six  sorts  ;  Calvinistic  Methodists,  two  sorts ; 
Sandemanians;  New  Church;  Brethren  ;  Catholic  and  Apos- 
tolic Church  —  that  is  to  say,  the  followers  of  the  late  Mr. 
Irving,  who  decline  (it  seems)  to  be  called  Protestants  ;  Lat- 
ter-day Saints,  or  Mormons;  Isolated  Congregations,  "without 
the  formal  coalescence  which  is  requisite  to  constitute  a  sect;" 
and  seven  sorts  of  foreign  "Churches;"  besides  the  Jews,  who 
are  described  as  being  "  a  nation  and  a  church  at  once,' 
definition  which  we  think  it  probable  that  St.  Paul  would  u< 
have  sanctioned.  But  this  is  a  drop  in  the  ocean  of  here 
which  is  surging  around  us.  We  propose  to  say  a  few  wore 
about  the  principal  of  these  Churches,  and  will  begin  with  tl 
Established  "  Church,"  which,  even  on  Protestant  grounds, 
would  be  utterly  ridiculous,  after  this  census,  to  describe 
*'  the  Church  of  England."  Of  course,  it  never  was  suppos( 
to  be  so  by  ourselves  ;  but  we  should  think  that  even  it 
friends,  if  candid-minded  persons,  could  scarcely  venture  t( 
speak  of  it  as  such  for  the  future. 

The  Report  gives  us  a  summary  of  the  history  of  what  wa 
the  Church  of  England  ;  viz.  the  Church  in  this  country  pre 
vious  to  the  pretended  Reformation.  We  are  informed  tha 
"  Christianity,  when  introduced  among  the  Saxons,  at  one 
assumed  an  organised  character;"  and  that  this  character  *'wa.^ 
of  course,  accordant  with  the  episcopal  model  to  which  the  mit 
sionaries  were  themselves  attached."  We  wonder  where  tbes 
missionaries  came  from.  Did  they  come  from  any  one  of  tb 
Protestant  "Christian  Churches"  here  enumerated?  Did  the 
proi'ess  Presbyterianism,  or  Independency,  or  Anabaptism,  i 


t 


Our  Picture  in  the  Census.  265 

any  such  thiiii^?  We  think  it  would  have  been  candid,  to  say 
the  least,  to  have  added,  in  a  work  destined  for  universal  cir- 
culation, that  these  missionaries  came  from  ultra  montes,  as 
Christianity  itself  did,  and  that  their  sender  was  a  Pope.  We 
learn  from  the  Venerable  Bede,*  whose  authority  we  lean  to 
even  under  the  affliction  of  the  silence  of  Mr.  Horace  Mann, 
that  King  Lucius  sent  to  Home,  between  the  years  177  and 
181,  a  request  that  he  might  be  admitted  within  the  pale  of 
Christianity.  Pope  Eleutherius  immediately  began  a  ''  Papal 
i\ggression" — the  first — and  sent  missionaries,  who  succeeded 
vvith  the  Britons  better  than  their  successors  do  with  Pro- 
testants. There  was  no  platform-oratory  ;  no  shabby  Picts 
or  Scots  set  themselves  up  against  Popery  and  Prelacy.  The 
thing  was  done  here  as  elsewhere ;  and  our  British  forefathers 
acknowledged  their  Master  in  heaven  by  submission  to  His 
Vicar  on  earth.  So,  again,  when  the  Saxon  invasion  ren- 
dered another  Papal  aggression  necessary.  Pope  Gregory  dis- 
patched, in  596,  from  the  monastery  on  the  Coelian  Hill,  so 
well-known  and  so  dear  to  Englishmen,  our  St.  Austin,  who 
established  Christianity  once  more,  as  it  remained,  with  the 
exception  of  poor  Cranmer's  time,  till  the  death  of  Cardinal 
Pole,  the  last  successor  of  St.  Augustine.  So,  also,  it  would 
have  been  candid  to  mention  that  the  division  of  this  country 
into  dioceses  was  effected  by  the  authority  and  under  the 
direction  of  the  Holy  See ;  and  that  by  the  same  authority 
the  character  of  some  dioceses  was  altered  from  time  to  time ; 
for  example,  Lichfield  was  made  an  archbishopric  by  Pope 
Adrian  in  the  year  787,  and  again  reduced  to  a  bishopric  by 
Pope  Leo  in  the  year  799.  But,  as  far  as  the  Report  is 
concerned,  these  missionaries,  of  whom  it  speaks  as  being 
"  attached  to  the  episcopal  model,"  might  have  sprung  up, 
like  the  stones  of  Deucalion  and  Pyrrha,  without  knowing  how 
they  got  here,  or  how  they  became  attached  to  the  episcopal 
model,  or  who  gave  them  episcopacy. 

However,  deficient  as  the  Report  is  in  its  account  of  the 
Church  of  England  before  the  Reformation,  it  gives  us  plenty 
of  statistics  as  to  the  established  religion  now.  We  find  that 
it  possesses  "  14,077  existing  churches,  chapels,  and  other* 
buildings ;"  and  this  number  of  buildings — far  the  greater 
number  of  which,  it  must  be  recollected,  are  Catholic  build- 
ings merely  held  by  the  burglarious  tenure  of  **  Reformation" 
spoliation — give  an  amount  of  what  is  called  "accommodation" 
in  the  proportion  of  one  church  to  every  1296  persons.  But 
this  is  the  old  territorial  idea,  and  gives  no  just  impression  of 
the  number  of  persons  who  actually  enter  those  churches. 
•  Dr.  Lingard,  Anglo-Saxon  Church,  vol.  i.  p.  2,  et  seq. 


JJ66  Our  Picture  in  the  Census, 

And  in  justice  to  the  Report,  it  must  be  admitted  that  no 
concealment  is  attempted  on  this  point.  It  speaks  with  equal 
distinctness  also  concerning  the  revenues  of  the  Establishment, 
which  it  describes  as  probably  being,  in  1851,  considerably 
upwards  of  five  millions  per  annum.  And  here  the  question 
instantly  rises  in  the  mind,  not  only  of  a  Catholic,  but  of 
every  fair  and  justice-loving  Protestant,  Whence  do  these 
revenues  come  ? 

The  Report  gives  the  distribution  of  the  revenues  in  1831, 
when  they  were  much  less  than  they  are  supposed  to  be  now, 
as  follovt's  : 

£. 

Bishops 181,631 

Deans  and  Chapters  .  .  .  360,095 
Parochial  Clergy  ....  3,251,159 
Church  Rates  ....        500,000 

Total   .         .         .         .£4,292,585 

Now  we  are  aware  that,  by  the  same  parliament  which 
instituted  Protestant  bishops  and  can  unmake  them  again,  the 
revenues  of  some  of  the  sees  which  have  attracted  public  at- 
tention by  their  vastness,  and  by  the  manner  in  which  they 
were  disposed  of,  have  been  curtailed  and  re-arranged.  But 
yet,  after  all,  the  Report  informs  us  that  the  aggregate  amount 
of  revenue  in  1851  exceeded  that  of  1831  by  nearly,  if  nol 
quite,  a  million.  This  is  comfortable,  even  if  we  withdraw 
the  500,000/.  of  church-rates,  as  the  country  will  now  n( 
doubt  do,  year  by  year,  in  consequence  of  the  final  decisioi 
of  the  Braintree  case  in  the  House  of  Lords. 

As  the  established  religion  is  the  onl}'  one  of  the  "  Chris 
tian  Churches"  in  this  country  possessing  a  state  endowment 
before  going  on  to  say  a  few  words  about  the  statistics  of  th^ 
others,  we  will  add  a  little  to  the  Report  in  the  shape  of  i 
supplement  to  the  revenue -part,   compiled  from   ProtestanI 
sources  ;  and  we  will  then  give  what  can  hardly  be  called 
supplement  to  the  Report  on  the  Established  Church ;  for  in 
the  Report  there  is  no  vestige  of  the  topic :   nevertheless,  it 
is  an  important  one ;  we  mean,  the  subdivisions  of  the  Esta- 
blished "Church"  itself;  the   omission  of  which  we  will,  to 
some  extent,  supply  from  the  same  sources. 

Our  friend,  the  Protestant  occupant  of  the  see  of  Durham, 
whose  name  will  go  down  to  posterity,  for  good  or  evil,  as  the 
provoker  and  cause  of  what  has  been  called  from  him  "  th( 
Durham  Letter,"  has  come  out  since  that  date  in  the  chan 
racter  of  a  most  able  financier.  It  appears,  from  a  leading 
article  on  the  Marquis  of  Blandford's  bill  in  the  Times  ii 
April  1853,  which  professes  to  gain  its  details  from  a  parlia^ 


Our  Picture  in  the  Census.  9^*t 

mentary  paper  (No.  400  of  the  Session  1851),  that  the  Bishop 
was  entitled  to  8000/.  a-year,  and  no  more.  No  more  !  The 
Times  then  goes  on  thus  : 

*'  Well,  in  July  of  the  year  1836  the  bishop  transmitted  certain 
accounts  to  the  Ecclesiastical  Commissioners,  and  said  [we  give 
his  own  words],  *  I  do  not  send  these  documents  with  a  view  of 
obtaining  any  increase  to  the  sums  which  the  Commissioners,  after 
due  deliberation,  have  assigned  to  the  bishopric  of  Durham,  but  that 
they  may  consider  and  direct  what  deductions  are  in  reason  to  be 
made  from  the  gross  sums  received,  so  that  a  fair  average  of  8000?. 
.per  annum  shall  remain,  as  they  propose.'  Confessedly  and  avow- 
edly then,  it  was  the  bishop's  sole  object  in  1836  to  bargain  for  and 
secure  this  clear  income,  though  among  the  data  furnished  for  that 
purpose  figure  some  charges  for  outgoings  theretofore  customary  in 
the  see,  of  the  following  most  unapostolical  character  : 

Park,  Manors,  and  Moors. 

Auckland  park  and  gamekeeper  .         .         . 

Merrington  gamekeeper      ..... 
Two  permanent  watchers  at  Auckland 

Weredale  gamekeeper 

Two  permanent  watchers  on  the  moors 
Additional  watchers  during  the  grouse  season 
Sundry  extra  expenses  attending  this  department 
The  chapel  at  Auckland  Castle   .... 
The  gardens,  lawns,  grass-walks 


Total 


£. 

s. 

d. 

101 

0 

0 

58 

6 

6 

78 

0 

0 

80 

0 

0 

80 

0 

0 

172 

15 

0 

40 

0 

0 

15 

0 

0 

490 

19 

2 

1116 

0 

8 

"  Only  \5L  worth  of  bread  to  all  this  intolerable  quantity  of 
sack !" 

Our  friend  the  Times  thus  at  last  falls  out  with  our  other 
friend,  Dr.  Maltby.  Alas  !  there  is  a  class  of  society,  the  in- 
terior falling  out  of  which  portends,  it  is  said,  the  recovering 
of  honest  men's  goods;  but  we  must  not  allow  our  hopes  to 
get  the  better  of  our  conviction  of  present  realities.  The  See 
of  Durham,  suppressed  and  destined  to  pillage  by  Edward  VI. 
and  his  robber-crew,  was  refounded  and  rescued  from  destruc- 
tion by  Queen  Mary,  and  is  thus  doubly  a  Catholic  founda- 
tion. In  1836,  the  man  who  was  to  be  made  the  stalking-horse  of 
Lord  John  Russell's  incendiary  letter,  was  paying  1  lOU.  Qs.  8d, 
for  game-keeping  and  grouse-watching,  and  gardens,  lawns,  and 
grass-walks  ;  and  for  the  service  of  his  chapel  at  Auckland, 
15/.  "  Fifteen  pounds'  worth,"  as  the  Times  says,  thinking  of 
Shakespeare  and  Falstaff,  '^  of  bread."  Yes,  let  a  Catholic 
imagine  what  would  be  the  relative  expenses  of  the  chapel 
of  a  true  bishop  of  Dunelm,  and  his  gardens,  lawns,  grass-walks, 
and  game.  Wine,  wax,  incense,  altar-breads ;  decorations 
constantly  fresh ;  splendid  vestments,  such  as  become  the  ser- 

VOL.  I. — NEW  SERIES,  U 


,Our  Picture  in  the  Census, 

vice  of  God,  constantly  renewed ;  doles  to  the  poor  never- 
ending  wliile  there  were  any  to  receive :  these  things,  would 
swell  the  chapel-items  to  a  considerably  larger  figure,  and 
would  probably  be  met  more  than  half-way  by  a  diminution 
in  those  for  gardens,  lawns,  grass-walks,  and  game.  But  our 
friends  have  not  concluded  their  quarrel.  It  appears,  from 
the  same  authority,  that  the  customary  out-goings  for  the 
permanent  watchers  on  the  moors,  and  the  additional  watchers 
during  the  grouse-season,  and  the  490/.  19^.  2d.  for  the  gar- 
dens, &c.  were  disallowed  by  the  ecclesiastical  commissioners, 
who  had  now  been  put  in  possession  of  power  over  Dr.  Maltby 
and  his  revenues.  "  Possibly,"  says  the  Times^  *^  they  thought 
that  such  night- watchings  were  more  fit  for  the  dignity  of  a 
count  palatine  than  a  successor  of  the  Apostles,  and  that  80/. 
^ryear  would  be  more  episcopally  bestowed  upon  one  curate 
than  upon  a  couple  of  gamekeepers."  In  short,  he  was  to 
have  his  8000/.  a-year,  and  pay  over  the  surplus  revenues  of 
the  see  to  the  commissioners.  Nevertheless,  the  Times,  after 
going  into  figures  a  good  deal  as  to  Dr.  Mai  thy 's  finance, 
says  that  they  have  been  thus  circumstantial,  because  it  is 

*'  indispensable  that  we  {The  Times)  should  produce  the  most  un- 
assailable proofs  in  charging  one  of  the  highest  and  most  highly- paid 
dignitaries  of  the  Establishment,  with  knowingly,  wilfully,  and  per- 
severingly  taking  and  keeping  more  than  what  the  legislature  as- 
signed for  him,  and  more  thqn  what  tlie  rules  of  morality  and  honour 
would  allow  to  him.  The  amount  of  this  excess,  according  to  the 
bishop's  own  returns  of  his  net  receipts,  we  recently  stated  to  be 

74,000/.,  and  the  bishop  is  silent  under  the  accusation Can 

he  deny  that  his  conscience  has  been  the  feeble  and  unresisting  cap- 
tive of  his  purse,  that  his  love  of  money  has  openly  triumphed  over 
principle,  and  his  selfishness  prevailed  over  the  claims  upon  him  as 
a  Christian  minister,  and  his  obligations  as  an  English  prelate  ?  If : 
not,  the  more  is  the  pity,  the  degradation,  and  the  shame  ;  and  we 
can  only  hope  that  the  system  which  has  produced  such  results  may 
soon  be  annihilated  for  ever."     Et  tu,  Brute  ! 

Our  readers  will  not  consider  us  as  exceeding  the  bounds  of 
charity,  if  we  give  our  cordial  assent  to  this  excellent  hope. 
Our  space  will  not  allow  us  to  go  into  the  details  of  an  earlier 
proceeding  of  Dr.  Maltby,  giving  an  earnest  of  the  great  finan- 
cial skill,  which  the  higher  elevation  of  Durham  has  matured 
and  perfected  ;  but  the  curious  reader  may  find  it  in  a  leading 
article  of  the  Times,  on  the  3d  of  August,  1853.  We  pass 
on  to  another  specimen,  which  will  be  interesting  to  our  nu- 
merous readers  in  Manchester.  They  know  their  beautiful 
collegiate  church  (we  will  not  allow  ourselves  to  call  it  a 
cathedral).     It  was  founded  in  its  present  state  (that  is  to  say, 


I 


Our  Picture  in  the  Census,  ^3 

as  a  collegiate  church)  in  the  year  1421,  by  Thomas  Lord  de 
la  Warre,  in  order  that  Divine  office,  might  be  daily  cele- 
brated in  it  for  the  health  of  the  souls  of  King  Henry  V.,  the 
Bishop  of  Coventry  and  Lichfield,  and  Thomas  Lord  de  la 
Warre,  living  and  dead,  and  for  the  health  of  the  souls  of 
their  progenitors  and  all  the  faithful  departed.  This  church, 
after  many  vicissitudes,  has  lately  been  made  a  Protestant 
bishopric,  and  the  warden  and  fellows  have  been  turned 
into  a  dean  and  canons.  These  gentlemen,  in  the  midst  of 
such  a  place  as  Manchester,  have  refused  to  work;  but  have 
simultaneously  continued  to  receive  a  very  large  annual  re- 
venue. The  JVw^5  of  December  22d,  185o,  after  giving  an 
account  of  the  foundation,  in  which  it  incidentally  appears 
that  Thomas  Lord  de  la  Warre  built  the  church  "  at  a  fur- 
ther cost  of  some  60,000/.  of  present  currency,  and  not  ob- 
tained from  the  improved  management  or  misrepresented  value 
of  church  estates,  nor  intercepted  from  any  common  fund,  but 
derived  entirely  from  liis  own  private  revenues,"  goes  on  to 
furnish  the  following  delightful  account  of  the  present  usurp- 
ing occupants  of  Thomas  Lord  de  la  Warre's  bountiful  and 
pious  foundations  : 

"  We  have  only  to  add,  diat  the  property  of  diis  body  is  now 
rateTi  at  some  34,000Z.  a  year;  that  the  dean  and  canons,  the  suc- 
cessors of  the  warden  and  fellows,  have  claimed  an  exemption  from 
the  cure  of  souls  of  the  450,000  parishioners,  insisting  that  it  belongs 
to  two  persons  whom  they  call  vicars,  and  to  whom  they  were  an- 
nually paying  17/.  105.  each,  while  their  advocate  v^'as  describing 
the  people  of  Manchester  as  unrivalled  in  tlie  art  of  cutting  down, 
clipping,  and  economising  ;  and  that  in  the  observations  of  the 
chapter  on  a  petition  against  this  state  of  things,  it  was  asserted 
that  by  an  original  charter  the  warden  had  a  cure  of  souls,  not  of 

the  parishioners,  but  of  the  rest  of  the  collegiates And  lastly, 

that  while  the  dean  and  canons  were  enjoying  the  parochial  reve- 
nues, and  repudiating  the  parish  duties,  its  working  clergy  were 
receiving  an  annual  average  of  70/.  or  80/.  each,  and  some  of  them 
labouring  for  less  than  the  men  of  low  cunning  but  unrivalled  clip- 
ping paid  their  packers  and  porters,  their  cotton-spinners,  their 
mechanics,  and  their  artisans.  In  short,  the  Church  system  at 
Manchester,  as  in  other  cathedral  cities,  was  feimply  this,  that  those 
clergymen  who  received  the  largest  pay  had  the  smallest  labour, 
and  those  who  got  the  least  pay  did  the  most  work." 

What  should  we  do  without  the  Times  ?     It  abuses  us,  but 

we  can  afford  to  bear  the  abuse.    And  an  hour  with  Dr.  Maltby, 

bishop,  and  with  the  canons,  occupants  of  the  church  of  Thomas 

Lord  de  la  Warre,  and  other  such  intervals  of  truth-telling 

ind  we  are  bound  to  admit  that  they  are  jiwny),  make  us  al- 


^70  Our  Picture  in  the  Census, 

most  forget  the  bitterness  of  Durham  letters,  and  our  weekly 
share  of  the  less  truthful  hours  of  Printing-House  Square. 
We  could  fill  our  pages  with  the  history  of  similar  cases,  nar- 
rated by  this  journal  on  the  same  unimpeachable  evidence  ;  but 
we  must  close  this  part  of  our  case,  our  humble  Supplement 
to  the  Report  before  us,  as  far  as  it  treats  of  the  revenues  of 
the  Establishment.  Durham,  Manchester,  and  every  cathe- 
dral in  England,  or  rather,  every  foundation  that  once  was 
such,  must  one  day  or  other  in  the  person  of  its  occupants — in 
this  world,  or  the  next,  or  in  both — give  an  account  of  the  hate- 
ful malversations  which  excite  the  contempt  and  indignation 
of  even  non-participating  Protestants,  but  to  the  eyes  of 
Christendom  are  beyond  Protestant  imagination  revolting  and 
loathsome. 

We  now  go  on  to  supply  the  omission  of  which  we  have 
already  spoken.  The  Established  "  Church"  is  presented  in  the 
Report  in  the  attitude  in  which  it  is  viewed  by  its  master  and 
tyrant,  the  State  ;  it  is  represented,  by  a  fiction  which  has 
ceased  to  be  harmless,  if  it  ever  was  so,  as  one  united  body. 
There  are  men  called  bishops,  others  called  priests,  others 
called  deacons.  They  have  sees,  and  benefices,  and  digni- 
ties. And  the  Lazarus  of  a  curacy  may  hope,  in  virtue  of 
some  unseen  destiny,  or  the  blessing  which  by  rare  mistake 
occasionally  distinguishes  modest  merit,  to  arrive  at  that  Pro- 
testant elevation  of  purple  and  fine  linen,  which,  as  we  havei 
just  seen,  calls  forth  such  briUiant  feats  of  finance.  But 
has  been  long,  very  long,  well-known  that,  in  fact,  the  Esta-* 
blished  *'  Church"  is  no  more  than  an  aggregation  of  sects,  tie( 
together  by  the  loose  wisp  of  thirty-nine  contradictory  Articles, 
and  the  golden  rivets  of  "  the  upwards  of  5,000,000^.  a-year.'J 
We  have  already  referred  to  that  generally  able  essay  calle( 
Church  Parties,  which  has  created  so  considerable  an  amount 
of  sensation  among  these  aggregated,  but  really  dissentingJ 
sections  of  the  Establishment.  We  shall  now  have  recourse 
to  it  again,  to  describe,  upon  very  respectable  Protestant 
authority,  and  without  any  additions  of  our  own,  the  existing 
state  of  those  antagonistic  sects  which  we  will  not  say  com- 
pose, but  divide,  the  Established  "  Church."  A  year  or  two 
ago — we  forget  the  exact  date,  but  it  was  some  time  during  the 
heat  of  the  Gorham  dilemma — we  were,  we  candidly  admit, 
surprised  for  once  at  finding,  in  a  leading  article  in  the  Times^ 
a  large  party  in  the  Established  "  Church"  described  as  "  the 
Broad  Church,''  We  thought  this  simply  one  of  the  passingi 
platitudes  that  are  occasionally  engendered  under  the  midnight- 
oil  of  Printing-House  Square.  It  appears,  however,  tliat  the] 
division  is  actively  adopted  j  and  we  find  the  term  prominentl; 


Our  Picture  in  the  Census,  ^71 

put  forward  in  this  essay  as  representing  what  the  author  evi- 
dently considers  the  preferable  part  of  the  Establishment.  The 
state  of  things  brought  to  light  by  this  pamphlet  is  certainly 
most  extraordinary.  The  census  presents  to  us  a  body  of  open 
and  avowed  divisions,  called  "  Christian  Churches,"  and  the 
Establishment  as  one  of  these.  But  now  it  turns  out,  on  Mr. 
Conjbeare's  showing,  that  the  Establishment  itself  is  subdi- 
vided exactly  as  follows  : 

C  Anglican         ...     3500 
High  Church     .{   Tractarian       .         .         .1000 
L"  High  a    ■-      " 


and  Dry "  .  .     2500 

Evangelical     .         .  .     3300 

Low  Church       .  {    Recordite        .         .  .     2500 

Low  and  Slow "  .  .       700 

Theoretical      .         .  .1000 

Anti-theoretical      ,  .     2500 


Broad  Church 


•{ 


and  about  1000  peasant  clergy  in  the  mountain  districts,  who 
must  be  classed  apart. 

Eight  sects,  besides  the  "  peasant  clergy,"  wdio,  we  sup- 
pose, have  no  souls  and  no  opinions !  Except  upon  some  such 
supposition,  their  occurrence,  as  enumerated  here,  is  no  better 
as  a  logical  division,  than  if  we  were  to  divide  the  human  race 
into  men,  women,  and  Protestant  bishops  of  Durham.  We 
shall  be  more  logical  and  charitable  ;  and  we  shall  consider  the 
*•'  peasant  clergy"  to  be  at  least  in  the  possession  of  their  own 
souls,  and  to  be  distributed  with  rigorous  impartiality  among 
the  eight  organised  sects.  Of  the  proceedings  of  these  sects 
we  say  nothing  at  present,  for  we  must  pass  on  to  the  names 
of  other  sects  which  the  Registrar  has  given  us ;  and  these 
too  we  must  dispatch  with  somewhat  irreverent  haste. 

The  Wesleyan  Methodists  of  the  original  connexion  ap- 
pear to  possess  the  largest  amount  of  sittings,  viz.  1,447,580; 
and  the  largest  number  of  meeting-houses,  viz.  6579.  The 
Independents  come  next;  and  the  isolated  congregations, 
reckoned  up  together,  come  next.  It  is  scarcely  worth  while 
to  spend  type  and  paper  upon  enumerating  the  "  accommo- 
dation" of  any  more  of  them, — 

Meri'  cruciet  cimex  Pantiliusl— 

But  the  King  of  men  has  evidently  been  placed  in  a  very 
tender  difficulty.  After  describing  in  all  his  tables  with  prolix 
accuracy,  and  a  glibness  and  redundancy  of  wording  perfectly 
suffocating,  the  various  Protestant  churches,  at  the  foot  of  the 
"last  column  in  his  tabular  plans  comes  this  heading,  "  Other 
Christian  Churches."  He  will  excuse  us  for  pointing  out 
that  this  is  rather  taking  his  readers  at  a  disadvantage ;  for, 
whereas  the  first  column  merely  said  Protestant  churches,  this 
introduces  the  reader,  by  implication,  to  an  assent  that  Pro- 


272  Our  Picture  in  the  Census, 

testant  churches  are  Christian.    We  think  it  would  have  been 
more  manly  to  have  faced  the  difficulty,  by  at  once  saying 
Protestant  Christian  Churches.    But  this  by  the  way.    Among 
these  '*  other  Christian  Churches,""  we  discover,  first,  the  Catho- 
lic Church,  which  is  described,  somewhat  loosely  and  ungram- 
matically, as  *'  Roman  Catholics."     In  the  same  division  are 
two,  with  which  our  readers  are  very  likely  quite  unacquainted. 
They  are  German  Catholics,  and  the  Catholic  and  Apostolic 
Church,  which  we  mentioned  before  as  an  institution  of  the 
late  Mr.  Edward  Irving,  a  preacher  of  the  Scotch  Kirk  some 
five-and-twenty  years   ago.     He   was,  we   have    understood, 
much  beloved  in  private  life ;  and  being,  we  suppose,  sick  of 
the  incurable  dulness  and  stupidity  of  the  Scotch  Kirk,  and 
also  persuaded  that  he  had  ''a  mission,"  originated  this  new 
sect,  which  has  accumulated  upon  itself  the  ardent  hatred  of 
its  brother  Protestants.     Now,  although  these  good  people — 
Irvingites,  as  we  must  persist  in  calling  them — are  quite  a» 
much  Protestants  as  any  of  the  rest  in  their  separation  from 
the  Catholic  Church,  yet  the  title  **  Catholic  and  Apostolic 
Church"  was  too  much  for  our  great  numerator ;  and  he  ob- 
viously felt  that  to   put  any  thing — for  example,  the   great 
Westminster  sewer — under  the  head  of  Protestant  Churches, 
if  it  only  described  itself  as    "  the   Catholic   and  Apostolic 
Church,"  would  puzzle  weak  brethren.     So  they  accordingly 
figure  among  the  *'  other  Christian  Churches,''     It  is  due  ii 
them  to  say  that,  with  the  exception   of  the  conduct  of  Mi 
Drummond,  the  speaker  of  the  most  offensive  speech  evej 
spoken  in    the  House   of  Commons  and  also   '"'  an  apostle*] 
among  them,  the  position  of  this  sect  contrasts  very  fiivoui 
ably  with  the  other  developments  of  private  judgment.     Thej 
have  published  a  prayer-book,  pillaged  from  the  Missal  am 
Catholic  sources,  and  also,  we  believe,  from  the  original  d< 
posit  of  pillage,  the  Anglican  Prayer-book;  and  as  far  as  w^ 
have  had   time  to   examine  it,  their  prayer-book  is  a  verj 
superior  thing  to  that  put  together  for  the  Establishment. 
They  also  deserve  to  be  mentioned  with  respect  for  the  re- 
verence which  they  show  to  sacred  ideas  and  sacred  places. 

The  other  difficulty  of  our  numerator  appeared  in  the  shape 
of  people  calling  themselves  "  German  Catholics."  These  are 
the  followers  of  John  Ronge,  the  priest  excommunicated  nine 
years  ago  by  the  Bishop  of  Treves.  This  gentleman  pub- 
lished a  profession  of  faith,  which  was  given  in  the  Silesian 
Gazette,  and  republished  in  the  Times  on  the  21st  February, 
1845.     It  contains  the  following  programme  of  belief: 

"  He  throws  off  his  *  allegiance  to  the  Bisliop  of  Rome  and  his 
whole  establishment.     The  basis  and  the  contents  oi  tlie  Christian 


Our  Picture  in  the  Census,-  27S! 

belief  are  the  Bible.  The  free  investigation  and  interpretation  is 
not  to  be  restrained  by  external  authority.'  He  '  recognises  only 
two  Sacraments  as  instituted  by  Christ,  Baptism  and  the  Lord's 
Supper.  Auricular  confession  is  rejected.'  He  rejects  '  invocation 
of  Saints,'  and  what  he  calls  *  adoration  of  relics  and  images,'  '  the 
remission  of  sins  by  the  priests,'  and  '  all  pilgrimages.'  He  also 
rejects  '  all  commands  of  fasting.'  " 

He  was  hailed  as  a  second  Luther  by  the  anti-Catholic  papers 
of  the  time ;  but  in  England,  at  least,  has  declined  to  aggre- 
gate himself  to  Lutheranism,  and  possesses,  it  appears,  one 
^*  place  of  worship."     Surely  our  numerator  has  done  him  an 
injustice.     Can  any  thing  be  more  "sound"  and  Protestant 
than  the  statements  which  we  have  culled  from  his  profession  ? 
But  we  suppose  the  weaker  brethren  in  England  were  again 
the  cause  of  John  Rouge's  association  appearing  as  another 
Christian  Church.    There  is  one  noticeable  circumstance  about 
the  Rongeites,  which  it  would  be  unfair  in  us  to  pass  over. 
They  are  the  only  sect  reported  in  the  census,  who  on  Cen- 
sus-Sunday exceeded  the  Catholics  in  the  amount  of  their  at- 
tendance in  proportion  to  their   sittings.      The  Catholics  at 
Mass  on  that  day — and  we  cannot  repeat  too  often  that,  in 
the  Christian  Church,  this  is  the  only  obligatory  public  ser- 
vice— were  135'8  in  attendance  to  every  hundred  sittings  or 
other  accommodation.    This  is  far  beyond  the  morning  attend- 
ance of  any  sect  in  the  list  except  the  Rongeites.     The  '*  Ger- 
man Protestant  Reformers"  come   next,  and  their  morning- 
attendance  is  60  per  cent.     The  Established  Church  is  only 
47*8.     The  Rongeites  are  166'7.     Thus,  as  the  Report  ob- 
serves, "far  more  is  got  out  of"  our  churches  than  out  of  any- 
corresponding  number  of  chapels  belonging  to  any  other  re- 
ligious body,  with  the  single  exception  just  noticed.     As  com- 
pared with  the  use  made  of  the  churches  of  the  Establishment, 
the  use  made  of  ours  is  nearly  treble  ;  and  this,  if  we  take 
into  account  the  attendance  on  Sujidays  only.     But  we  beg 
to  suggest,  if  Mr.  H.  Mann  should  live,  as  we  truly  hope  he 
may,  to  enjoy  the  triumphs  of  another  census — if  in  1861  he 
still  survives  to   chronicle   fresh  additions  to  the  number  of 
"  Christian  churches" — that  instead  of  a  Census -Sunday,  he 
should  give  us  a  Census- ?F<?6'/i:,  and  tell  us  how  his  "  Christian 
churches"  have  managed  matters  for  seven  days.     But  to  re- 
turn to  the  Rongeites.     The  attendance  of  this  single  con- 
gregation we  presume  to  be  the  result  of  recollecting  wliat 
they  once  had.     Ronge  was  described,  at  the  time  when  he 
set  up  his  religion,  as  giving  some  small  travestie  of  "  a  ser- 
vice" at  an  altar;  and  we  presume  that  his  followers  in  Lon- 
don have  continued  their  morning-attendance  at  their  worship, 


274?  Our  Picture  in  the  Census, 

because  when  they  were  Catholics  it  had  been  obligatory  on 
their  consciences  to  go  to  Mass.  It  must  also  be  recollected, 
that  in  giving  their  attendance  the  benefit  of  a  comparison 
with  ours,  we  are  comparing  a  single  congregation,  and  that 
a  small  one,  with  the  multitude  of  vast  outlying  and  scattered 
congregations  throughout  England  and  Wales.  No  doubt,  if 
the  attendance  at  any  single  Catholic  church  in  any  town  were 
taken  and  compared  with  the  attendance  of  this  single  Rongeite 
meeting,  the  Catholic  attendance  would  be  found  to  exceed  it. 
Without  enumerating  their  accommodation,  and,  of  course, 
without  pretending  to  guess  their  tenets,  we  will  just  recite 
the  names  of  those  isolated  congregations  who  are  described  in 
the  Report  as  "  a  great  crowd  refusing  to  acknowledge  con- 
nexion with  any  particular  sect."  And  we  think  it  quite  ne- 
cessary to  assure  our  readers  that  we  are  not  joking,  and  that 
the  names  which  we  are  now  going  to  set  down  are  copied 
literally  and  verbatim,  and  exactly  as  they  stand  in  the  Report, 

"Independents  and  Baptists,  Gl  congregations;  Independents, 
Baptists,  and  Wesleyans,  2  congregations  ;  Independents  and  Wes- 
leyans,  3  congregations  ;  Independents  and  Calvinistic  Methodists, 
1  congregation ;  Independents  and  Primitive  Methodists,  1  congre- 
^■gation  ;  Baptists  and  Wesleyans,  2  congregations  ;  Baptists,  Wes- 
ieyans  and  Moravians,  1  congregation  ;  Presbyterians  and  Par- 
ticular  Baptists,  1  congregation ;  Mixed  (constituent  sects  not 
stated),  54  congregations  ;  Wesleyan  Christian  Union,  1  congre- 
,'gation  ;   Neutral,  1  congregation. 

"  Calvinists,  81  congregations;  Calvinists  (supralapsarians),  1 
<:ongregation  ;  Huntingtonians,  1  congregation ;  Universalists,  2 
^congregations  ;  Millenarians,  5  congregations  ;  Predestinarians,  1 
^congregation  ;  Trinitarian  Predestinarians,  1  congregation. 

"  Christians,  96  congregations  ;  Christian  Association,  8  con- 
:gregations  ;  Orthodox  Christians,  1  congregation ;  New  Christians, 
1  congregation ;  Christ's  Disciples,  3  congregations ;  Primitive 
Christians,  1  congregation  ;  New  Testament  Christians,  2  congre- 
gations ;  Original  Christians,  1  congregation  ;  United  Christians,  1 
congregation  ;  Gospel  Pilgrims,  2  congregations  ;  Free  Gospel 
Christians,  14  congregations;  Believers,  1  congregation;  Non-Sec- 
tarian, 7  congregations  ;  No  particular  Denomination,  7  congrega- 
tions ;  Evangelists,  4  congregations  ;  Gospel  Refugees,  1  congrC" 
gation  ;   Freethinking  Christians,  2  congregations. 

*'  Protestant  Christians,  S  congregations ;  Evangelical  Protest- 
ants, 1  congregation  ;  Protestant  Free  Church,  1  congregation ; 
Trinitarians,  1  congregation  ;  Protestant  Dissenters,  24  congrega- 
tions ;  Dissenters,  G  congregations  ;  Evangelical  Dissenters,  3  con- 
gregations ;  Episcopalian  Seceders,  1  congregation. 

"  Free  Church,  8  congregations  ;  Teetotalers,  1  congregation ; 
Doubttui,  43  congregations  ;  Benevolent  Methodists,  1  congrega- 


i 


Our  Picture  in  the  Census^  275 

ion  ;  General,  2  congregations  ;  Israelites,  1  congregation  ;  Chris- 
ian  Israelites,  3  congregations  ;  Stephenites,  1  congregation  ;  Ing- 
lamites,  9  congregations ;  Temperance  Wesleyans,  1  congregation ; 
fempernnce  Christians,  1  congregation ;  Freethinkers,  2  congrega- 
ions  ;  Rational  Progressionists,  1  congregation ;  Southcottians,  4 
congregations." 

There  are  a  few  outriggers  in  the  shape  of  "  London  City 
Mission,"  "  Railway  Mission,"  and  so  forth,  which  are  de- 
scrihed  by  the  Report  as  the  offspring  of  the  missionary  la^ 
hours  of  other  bodies,  and  complete  the  sum -total  of  the 
results  of  that  exercise  of  private  judgment  and  self-reliance 
which  have  received  the  official  approbation  of  the  State. 
Mr.  Horace  Mann  says,  "  Perhaps  in  a  people  like  the  Eng- 
lish, trained  to  the  exercise  of  private  judgment,  and  inured 
to  self-reliance,  absolute  agreement  on  religious  subjects  never 
can  be  realised/'  We  entirely  agree  with  this  conclusion. 
But  there  was  a  time  when  this  great  nation  did  possess  that 
absolute  agreement  which  all  Christendom  still  has.  And 
what  does  tlie  Office  mean  by  *  self-reliance  ?'  There  is  an 
untheological  use  of  the  word,  which  is  harmless  and  honour- 
able. Self-reliance,  in  relation  to  things  temporal,  does  won- 
ders. It  sends  a  man  into  parliament,  makes  him  necessary 
to  a  ministry,  finds  for  him  energy  to  face  state-difficulties, 
and  gives  him  place  and  value  in  the  councils  of  his  sovereign. 
It  leads  him  to  the  breach  at  Badajoz,  sends  a  Nelson  round 
the  world  after  his  enemy's  fleet,  takes  him  into  action  in  the 
dead  of  night,  wins  Trafalgar  or  Waterloo.  It  animates  life  ; 
and  where  it  fails,  all  fails.  But  what  is  self-reliance  in  reli- 
gion ?  what  place  has  it  ?  what  is  its  aim  ?  what  can  it  do  ? 
can  it  give  or  explain  a  Revelation  ?  can  it  say  that  the  Chris- 
tian or  any  religion  is  true  ?  does  it  give  Divine  faith  ?  will 
it  animate  the  soul  in  the  imminent  prospect  of  eternity?  Few 
spectacles  are  more  appalling  than  a  self-relying  dying  person. 
The  devil  has  no  greater  cheat  than  to  make  a  man  self-relying 
then.  But  we  are  always  within  an  instant  of  death.  And  if 
a  man  may,  all  his  life,  have  the  official  Report's  self-reliance 
on  his  private  judgment  in  choosing  his  religion,  why  not  when 
death  is  clearly  at  hand?  To  rely  on  Jesus,  to  abandon  every 
idea  of  self-confidence,  to  confess  our  sins,  to  doubt  greatly 
as  to  our  having  any  merit, — these  are  some  of  the  acts,  op- 
posite to  self-reliance,  and  destructive  of  it,  which  the  children 
of  the  Catholic  Church  are  trained  to  practise.  And  they 
practise  them  because  they  have  no  original  idea  of  self-re- 
liance. They  have  thrown  themselves  into  the  care  of  that  one 
divine  institution,  the  Catholic  Church,  upon  which  they  rely 
with  safety  and  consolation. 


276  Our  Picture  in  the  Cenms. 

But,  Mr.  Horace  Mann  blandly  tells  us: 

"  If  the  preceding  sketch  has  given  any  adequate  idea  of  the 
faith  and  order  of  the  various  churches  wliich  possess  in  common 
the  religious  area  of  England,  it  will  probably  be  seen  to  what  a 
great  extent,  amidst  so  much  ostensible  confusion  and  diversity, 
essential  harmony  prevails.  Especially  is  this  apparent  if  we  limit 
our  regard  to  Protestant  communions,  which,  indeed,  comprise" 
{they  do  not  coviprise)  "  together  nineteen-twentieths  of  our  religious 
population.  With  respect  to  these,  the  differences  which  outwardly 
divide  are  not  to  be  compared  with  the  concordances  which  secretly, 
perhaps  unconsciously,  unite.  The  former,  with  but  few  exceptions, 
have  relation  almost  wholly  to  the  mere  formalities  of  worship — not 
to  the  essential  articles  of  faith." 

That  such  an  enumeration  of  every  shape  and  variety  of  heresy 
should  be  spoken  of  in  terms  like  these,  that  the  active  exer- 
cise of  private  judgment,  in  antagonism  to  the  unity  of  the 
Church  for  which  Jesus  Christ  died   on  Calvary,  should  be 
balanced  against  each  other  in  the  hands  of  Mr.  Horace  Manr 
and  should  be  found   of  equal  weight,  exhibits  a  depth  ( 
national  religious  degradation  which  other  things  indeed  hav 
told,  and  which  individuals  have  observed  and  known,  bu 
which  has  never  yet,  since  the   foundation  of  the  Christiai 
Church,  been  trumpeted  forth  to  the  ends  of  the  earth  as 
possible  subject  of  congratulation.     Against  this  hateful  ex 
hibition  we,  at  all  events,  must  enter  our  protest  in  comm( 
with  all  the  Church  of  Christ,     It  was  not  to  institute  tl| 
most  absurd  and  despicable  catalogue  of  heresies — it  was 
that  souls  should  be  bevialdered,  captured,  deluded,  and  plac 
in   the  most  imminent  risk  of  eternal  perdition, — that  J( 
Christ  lived  on  earth,  walked  among  men,  suffered,  rose,  a^ 
ascended  into  heaven,  and  instituted  His  own  holy  Chur( 
indivisible,  and  of  perpetuity  through   all   days  even  to 
consummation  of  the  world.     No :  it  was  not  for  this.     Bi 
in  spite  of  these  butcheries  of  the  poor  sheep  for  whom 
Great  Shepherd  laid  down  His  life,   in  spite  of  their  chi 
nicling  by  registrars,  in  spite  of  the  applause  of  an  unhapp 
and  infidel  people,   which   outrages  God  every  day  with 
knowledge  and  a  flagrancy  beyond  that  of  paganism, — in  spit 
of  these  things,  there  is  still  in  England  that  one  true  Churcl 
still,  amid  all  discouragements,  trials,  and  persecutions,  coi. 
tinuing  to  do  its  work,  by  bringing  thousands  of  souls  to  Goo 
every  year,  which  will  be  found   registered  in  books  wh( 
verdict  will  be  unimpeachable.     And  it  is  witli  a  feeling 
great  relief  that  we  turn  to  speak  of  this  Catholic  Chur^ 
It  is — to  put  the  thing  in  a  very  low  way — like  looking  at  sol 
solemn  ancient  picture,  after  having  been  stunned  by  the  screi 


Our  Picture  in  the  Census,  277 

iiigs  and  vexed  with  the  contortions  of  a  street  Punch.  We  have 
looked  with  great  interest  to  see  what  picture  of  the  Catholic 
Churcli  Mr.  Horace  Mann  would  give,  "  to  set  before  the 
queen"  and  parliament.  We  regret  to  say  that  "  the  whole 
duty  of  man"  has  not  been  fulfilled  in  this  department.  There 
are  great  sins  of  omission.  Our  numerator  quotes  from  a  little 
book  entitled  "  Catholic  Statistics,  1823  to  1853."  He  there- 
fore had  the  information  before  him,  and  we  find  it  difficult 
to  make  excuses  for  him.  Our  readers,  not  familiar  with  the 
Report,  will  be  surprised  to  hear  that,  in  the  official  descrip- 
tion of  "Roman  Catholics,"  no  mention  occurs  either  of  Pope 
or  bishop.  Yet  it  has  long  been  felt  by  our  enemies  as  a 
peculiarity  and  a  difficulty  of  our  case,  that  we  possessed 
both.  And  a  tolerably  large  share  of  the  Session  of  1851 
was  devoted  to  considering  whether  our  bishops  should  be 
allowed  by  law  to  call  themselves  by  their  right  titles.  How- 
ever, the  knot  is  cut  here.  We  are  actually  described  in  a 
way  which  must  deprive  us  of  all  social  acerbity  in  the  minds 
of  the  frequenters  of  Exeter  Hall  and  all  its  dens.  We  are 
neither  Papal  nor  Episcopal.  But,— O  naughty  Mr.  Mann, 
when  those  people  find  you  out,  they  won't  like  you  any 
the  better  for  it;  it  was  well  meant,  no  doubt;  but  would  it 
not  have  been  better  to  tell  the  truth  at  once  ? — Here,  in  this 
very  little  book  from  which  you  quote,  you  had  a  pretty  little 
table,  mote  prettily  printed  than  any  of  your  little  tables  in 
your  Report,  containing  the  name,  diocese,  date  of  consecra- 
tion, and  residence  of  thirteen  bishops  of  this  England  and 
WtUes,  besides  the  names  of  two  other  bishops  not  now  holding 
sees  in  this  country.  And  every  one  of  these  bishops  was 
made  bishop,  and  was  appointed  to  his  diocese,  by  the  Pope. 
Nay,  on  the  very  cover  of  this  little  book  are  the  arms  of  his 
Eminence  Cardinal  Wiseman,  under  a  mitre,  and  supported 
by  two  angels.  Three  other  tables  in  the  same  book,  of  all 
of  which  you  have  made  use,  show  the  number,  not  of  chapels 
only,  but  of  churches  and  chapels,  both  before  the  establish- 
ment of  the  hierarchy  and  since.  We  think  that  a  fair  and 
honest  use  of  the  little  book  would  have  increased  the  his- 
torical value  of  the  Report,  even  if  it  had  failed  in  satisfying 
a  present  and,  in  our  opinion,  most  unworthy  purpose.  But 
all  these  particulars,  and  much  more,  the  world  knows  without 
the  aid  of  our  king  of  men.  Christendom,  scouting  all  im- 
postor-bishops, knows,  recognises,  and  venerates  the  English 
Catholic  hierarchy.  In  all  ends  of  the  earth  its  acts  are  re- 
ceived with  respect,  and  its  jurisdiction  instantly  acknowledged 
as  valid.  The  decrees  of  the  Synod  of  Westminster,  held  at 
Oscott,  have  been  ratified  by  the  successor  of  St.  Peter,  and 


S78  Our  Picture  in  the  Census, 

are  now  tlie  provincial  canon-law  of  England.  Nay,  more,  if 
we  are  not  misinformed,  they  have  been  recommended  by  his 
Holiness  himself  to  the  hierarchy  of  a  neighbouring  Catholic 
country,  as  an  admirable  model  to  be  followed.  And  when 
that  great  prelate  and  prince  of  the  Church,  Cardinal  Wise- 
man, returned  to  the  centre  of  Christendom  on  a  recent  visit, 
he  took  in  his  own  person  to  the  feet  of  the  Vicar  of  Jesus 
Christ,  the  most  complete  submission  and  dependence,  in  all 
spiritual  matters,  of  every  Catholic  in  England  and  Wales. 
We  are  not  going  to  tell  a  twice-told  tale.  We  need  not  say 
any  thing  to  our  own  readers  about  our  dioceses,  or  churches,  or 
clergy.  They  know  where  to  find  these  details ;  and  it  would 
seem  the  Protestants  know  where  to  find  them  too,  only  they 
will  not  always  use  them  when  found.  We  have  only  to  beg 
Mr.  Horace  Mann,  or  any  other  Protestant  of  his  or  any  other 
views,  to  go  to  Southwark,  or  Nottingham,  or  Birmingham, 
or  Salford, — we  mention  these  places  because  there  cathedral 
churches  already  exist,  and  are  in  use, — and  if  these  gentle- 
men will  visit  any  of  these  cathedrals  at  any  of  the  great 
festivals  of  the  Christian  Church,  they  may  there  see  the  Ca- 
tholic bishop  of  the  diocese  celebrating  the  great  act  of  the 
Christian  religion  with  all  the  majestic  and  religious  cere- 
monial practised  by  Christendom.  They  will  see  a  bishop 
absolutely  without  any  state  support;  having  no  manors,  none 
even  of  those  which  Ridley  surrendered  to  the  pious  rapacitjH 
of  his  sovereign  lord  and  master,  yet  still  a  bishop.  It  fre-MI 
quently  happens  that  he  has  no  means  of  support  whatever 
but  the  alms  of  the  faithful.  Should  Birmingham  be  the 
place  chosen  by  our  numerator  and  his  friends  for  their  holi^ 
day  ramble,  they  may  see  a  bishop,  who  actually  has  been  \\ 
prison  within  the  last  two  years  for  obligations  not  contractec 
by  himself ;  and  the  whole  aggregate  of  whose  property,  re£ 
and  personal,  together  with  that  of  one  of  his  clergy  wii< 
shared  his  imprisonment,  reached,  and  only  reached,  the  sui 
of  two  hundred  pounds.  Probably  it  would  be  doubtec 
at  Durham  whether  such  a  man  could  really  be  a  bishop 
at  all  ;  whether  St.  Peter  could  actually  have  designed 
to  confer  the  divine  gifts  of  apostolic  succession  upon  a 
person  possessing  something  less  than  two  hundred  pounds 
capital — and  no  ;nanors.  Nevertheless,  we  assure  our  nume- 
rator that  he  will  actually  see  a  bishop,  and  that  that  bishop 
is  actually  supported,  and  will  continue  to  be  supported,  in 
frugal  dignity,  by  the  humble  but  increasing  contributions  of 
those  who  love  his  authority  and  himself.  W^e  can  only  hope, 
further,  that  it  may  be  our  good  fortune  to  meet  this  holiday- 
party  in  whichever  of  our  cathedral  cities  they  may  chance 


Our  Picture  in  the  Census,  279 

0  be  conducting  their  researches.  Our  services  are  ah-eady 
heirs ;  we  hereby  tender  them ;  and  we  assure  them  that  it 
vill  not  be  our  fault  if  they  do  not  carr}^  away  materials  suf- 
icient  to  give  a  different  colouring  to  the  account  of  the  Ca- 
holic  Church  which  may  next  be  presented  to  parliament  by 
ler  Majesty's  command. 

Our  remarks  have  already  run  to  such  a  length,  that  we 
nust  postpone  to  a  future  article  the  practical  commentary 
.vhich  we  have  promised  upon  the  state  of  "  religious  wor- 
ship" described  in  the  Report  before  us.  At  present  we  will 
)nly  make  one  more  observation  on  a  point  which  has  already 
jeen  briefly  alluded  to.  We  repeat,  then,  that  this  report  for 
iver  demolishes  the  fiction  of  a  Protestant  Church  of  England, 
'fall  these  other  individualities  really  are  in  the  eye  of  the 
State  "  Christian  Churches,"  there  is  no  longer  any  room  for 
lebate.  Actum  est.  If  there  really  is  that  essential  agree- 
nent  which  the  Report  suggests,  there  is  no  reason  why  one 
)f  these  sects  should  be  called  the  Church  of  England,  and  dis- 
inguished  above  the  others.  As  long  as  the  established  reli- 
gion was  maintained  by  the  government  as  the  Established 
]Jhurch  of  the  country,  in  such  a  sense  as  that  no  other  Pro- 
;estant  society  was  considered  as  a  church ;  and  further,  as 
ong  as  the  Establishment  believed  in  its  own  canons  of  1603, 
.vhich  denounce  with  the  severest  censures  any  other  asso- 
ciation setting  itself  up  as  a  church  in  this  kingdom,  so  long 
:here  was  at  least  common  sense  and  consistency  in  giving  to 
tj  on  generally  received  premises,  the  title  of  Church  of  Eng- 
and.  But  the  Establishment  has  openly,  as  far  as  it  can, 
:hrough  its  members  and  its  practice,  disavowed  its  belief  in 
ts  own  canons — canons  which,  we  need  not  say,  every  Catho- 
ic  has  always  laughed  at ; — and  the  final  blow  is  now  struck, 
oylier  Majesty's  commanding  a  Report  to  be  presented  to  both 
Houses  of  Parliament,  which  utterly  ignores  the  existence  of 
such  a  position  for  the  Establishment ;  and  for  the  first  time 
2fives  public  official  life  to  this  basket-full  of  Christian  Churches. 
We  think,  therefore,  that  every  Protestant  Dissenter  in  Eng- 
land, or  rather,  as  we  may  now  say,  that  every  member  of  all 
these  unendowed  Protestant  Churches,  as  well  as  every  Catholic 
Jwhose  Church  is  not  only  unendowed,  but  also  pauperised  by 
violence  and  robbery), — we  think  that  every  individual  who  does 
not  belong  to  the  "endowed  Church"  is  entitled  to  ask,  and 
will  ask.  Why  is  this  Establishment  to  be  the  sole  recipient  of 
all  that  money  which  our  Catholic  forefathers  left  for  those 
purposes  to  which  the  Catholic  Church  alone  can  apply  it  ? 
Why  is  Dr.  Maltby  still  to  improve,  in  his  declining  years,  in 
the  Protestant  science  of  sciences,   the  science  of  finance  ? 


280  Music  for  Amateur  Performance, 

Why  are  present  and  future  Registrars  of  the  Prerogativ 
Court  of  Canterbury  to  enjoy  thousands  a-year  for  doing  no 
thing  ?     Why  should  not  Catholics,  for  instance,  be  instantl 
put  in  possession  of  some  portion  at  least  of  what  should  neve 
have  been  taken  from  them,  such  as  the  hospital  of  St.  Crc> 
for  example  ?     Why  are  the   foundations  of  Wykeham  i. 
Waynflete  at  Oxford,  and  Alcock  at  Cambridge,  and  all  ' 
other  Catholic  foundations  of  both  universities,  to  be  detain 
in  the  hands  of  one  usurping  sect,  to  the  manifest  wrong  n( 
only  of  the  Catholics,  who  are  dispossessed  of  their  own,  bi 
of  the  other  Protestant  "  Christian  Churches,"  which  have  .' 
good  a  title  to  the  spoils  as  the  present  men  in  possessior 
Why  are  tithes,  or  their  equivalent,  to  be  paid  any  longer  ■ 
ministers  whose  religion  is  not  the  religion  of  the  peopl 
whose  churches  are  not  frequented  ?    Will  it  be  endured  th 
■Catholics,  and  the  Protestant  "  Christian  Churches,"  shou 
continue  to  pay  money  in  support  of  one  Protestant  sect, 
•well  as  have  the  obligation  of  supporting  their  own  clergy  ai 
ministers?     We  think  that  the  Report  before  us  natura^ 
suggests  these  questions  to  every  thoughtful  mind ;  and  ti 
•from  the  narrow  circle  of  the  few  they  will,  gradually  but] ; 
evitably,  extend  to  the  intelligence  of  the  million  :  moreoT*-! 
.that  these  questions  once  raised,  will  never  again  be  got  rid 
but  in  one  way.     Justice,  decency,    common-sense,  and  i 
consequent  exigency  of  the  state,   must  before  long  fix  1 
attention  of  those  in  power  upon  all  of  them. 
[To  be  concluded  ia  our  next.] 


MUSIC  FOR  AMATEUR  PERFORMANCE. 

1.  Orpheus i  a  Collection  of  German  Glees,  with  Euj 
Words. 

2.  Six  Ttco-part  Songs.     By  Felix  Mendelssohn  Barthol 

3.  Gems  of  German  Song,  with  English  Words. 

4.  John  Sebastian  Bach's  Six  Motetts ;  the  English  version 

W.  Bartholomew. 

5.  The  Organ  and  its  Co?2struciion  ;  a  Systematic  Handbool 
Oi-ganists^  Organ-huilders,  8^'c.  Translated  from  the  Gen 
of  J.  J.  Seidel,  Organist  at  Breslau. 

(The  above  are  all  published  by  Ewer  and  Co.) 

'^  Can  you  recommend  me  some  good  music,  pleasing, 
not  too  difficult?"  is  a  question  often  asked,  but  not  ah 
responded  to  with  a  ready  answer.     Of  course,  there  are  1 
dreds  of  persons,  professional  musicians  and  amateurs, 


1 


Music  for  Amateur  Performance.  S81 

m  answer  the  query  satisfactorily.  But  such  informants  are 
ot  always  at  hand  ;  and  even  when  they  are,  they  are  some- 
mes  so  bewildered  with  the  multitude  of  the  compositions 
hich  crowd  on  their  memory,  that  a  judicious  selection  can- 
ot  be  made  without  more  thought  than  the  exigencies  of  the 
loment  permit.  Many  of  our  readers  will  therefore,  perhaps, 
e  obliged  to  us  if  we  furnish  them  with  a  selection  of  a  few 
Dinpositions,  available  for  the  private  performance  of  amateurs 
f  moderate  skill. 

It  is,  indeed,  provoking  to  look  over  the  heaps  of  music 
hich  crowd  the  *'  canterbury  "  or  the  "  what-not  "  in  many 
drawing-room,  and  to  see  the  pile  of  rubbish  which  has 
een  gradually  accumulating,  through  the  want  of  a  little 
seful  knowledge  on  the  part  of  purchasers.  Here  is  a  polka, 
ought  for  the  sake  of  tlie  showy  chromo-lithograph  on  its 
itle-page;  there  is  a  brilliant  bravura,  recommended  by  the 
raraatic  singing  of  Grisi  or  Sontag ;  then  turns  up  a  succes- 
on  of  pianoforte-pieces,  wild  and  furious  in  style,  and  defy- 
ig  the  powers  of  any  player  but  a  Jiszt  or  a  Thalberg. 
)ingy  with  dust,  and  dog's-eared  with  hurried  tumbling,  next 
Dmes  to  light  ballad  after  ballad,  bought  because  the  music- 
filer's  stock  had  nothing  better  to  recommend,  or  ordered  on 
le  strength  of  puffing  advertisements  in  the  Times^  or  laid 
y  from  school-days,  when  music  by  the  pound's-worth  was 
icluded  in  every  quarter's  *'  bill."  Volume  after  volume  is 
arned  over,  and  pile  after  pile  tossed  aside,  and,  after  all, 
nly  a  few  grains  of  wheat  are  scraped  together  out  of  all 
liese  bushels  of  chaff,  till  one  ceases  to  wonder  that  the  for- 
unate  possessor  of  compositions  which  "  have  cost  so  much" 
hould  be  at  a  loss  for  a  song  or  a  pianoforte  piece  wherewith 
3  gratify  an  audience  of  any  pretensions  to  discrimination. 
'>ery  thing  is  too  difficult,  or  too  learned,  or  too  ugly,  or  too 
illy,  or  strains  the  voice  too  much  ;  and  the  disappointed 
ompany  finally  conclude  that  the  lady  or  gentleman  who  is 
Ims  unable  to  gratify  them  with  a  performance,  is  very 
tupid,  or  very  affected,  or  very  cross. 

Yet  there  is  no  need  to  expend  any  very  extravagant  sum 
f  money  in  order  gradually  to  get  together  a  little  library  of 
lusic,  of  different  schools,  suited  to  the  average  powers  of 
mateurs,  and  well  fitted  for  chamber  performance  ;  provided 
:  be  always  borne  in  mind,  that  compositions  which  require  a 
rst-rate  performer's  execution  are  quite  unfit  for  the  majority 
f  private  musicians ;  and  further,  that  music  which  is  admir- 
ble  on  the  stage,  or  in  a  large  concert-room,  is  frequently 
ery  ill  adapted  to  the  pianoforte,  or  to  the  comparatively 
aim  style  of  singing  which  befits  a  drawing-room. 


^2  Music  for  Amateur  Performance, 

A  few  months  ago  we  referred  our  musical  readers  to  a 
large  and  excellent  selection  of  pianoforte  compositions  and 
arrangements  from  Mozart,  Haydn,  Beethoven,  and  others  oi 
the  recognised  classical  schools,  which  is  imported  and  sold  bj 
our  own  publishers.     Of  this  class  of  works  we  shall,  there- 
fore, say  no  more  at  present,  except  to  add  that  the  greatei 
part  of  Mendelssohn's  music  being  copyright  in  this  country 
foreign  editions  cannot  be  imported,  and   can  be  had  onh 
from  Messrs.  Ewer  and  Co.,  of  Oxford  Street.     A  large  pro- 
portion of  Mendelssohn's  works  are,  moreover,  nndoubtedh 
too  difficult  to  be  included  in  a  list  of  easy  music  such  as  W( 
are  now  suggesting.     Mendelssohn's  own  powers  of  perform 
ance,  alike  on  the  organ,  the  pianoforte,  and  the  violin  (to  sa} 
nothing  of  other  instruments),  were  so  remarkable,  that  h( 
never  hesitates  to   tax    the    resources  of  executants   to  an; 
extent  which  may  be  desirable  for  the  accomplishment  of  th' 
effects  he  desires  to  produce.     He  delights,  too,  in  a  peculia 
species  of  movement,  which  is  the  very  embodiment  of  th 
idea  of  motion,  in  which  he  has  seized  on  and  carried  out  thi 
idea  with  a  vigour  of  conception,  a  felicity  of  expression,  and 
mastery  of  resources,  unequalled  by  any  other  composer.    Th 
result  is  animated  and  delightful,  when  such  movements  a 
thoroughly  well  executed ;  and  they  elevate  the  spirits  both 
performers  and  audience  to  an  extent  which  no  other  coh 
poser  could  ever  attain,  who  delighted  to  the  same  degreej 
minor  keys  and  frequent  modulations.     Of  such  music  d^ 
culty  is  a  natural  accompaniment.     Still,  there  are  parts 
many  of  Mendelssohn's  writings  which  a  tolerable  player 
master,  as  for  instance,  some  of  the  "  Songs  without  Won 
We  may,  perhaps,  in  some  future  number,  recur  to  his  mi 
generally  and  in  detail  ;  at  present  we  shall  only  mention 
of  his  instrumental   pieces  most  recently  published   in 
country.     One  of  these  he  calls  "  Six  Pieces  for  the  Pif 
forte,  composed  as  a  Christmas  present  for  his  young  frien( 
all   very   pleasing,    characteristic    of  their  author,   and 
withal,  though  not  so  easy  that  a  good  player  need  despi 
them*     The   other  is   a  new  arrangement  of  the   admirab 
Ottetto,  op.  20,  for  pianoforte,  2  violins,  and  violoncello.    Tb 
is   by  no  means    over-difficult,  and  is  one  of  Mendelssohi 
happiest  works,  presenting  some  very  striking  illustrations 
that  spirit  of  sparkling  motion  which  we  have  spoken  of. 

It  is,  however,  in  Mendelssohn's  songs,  duets,  and  que 
tetts,  that  the  amateur  must  seek  his  chief  practicable  illust 
tions  of  the  master.  As  a  writer  for  a  single  voice,  he  is 
no  means  without  rivals  in  the  modern  German  schools;! 
some  respects  he  has  his  superiors.     Yet  many  of  his  sol 


Music  for  Amateur  Performance.  S8S 

are  charming,  for  their  sweet  expressiveness,  for  the  sentiment 
of  repose  and  refinement  which  ever  pervades  them,  and  for  a 
certain  tender  mehmcholy  from  which  his  pen  is  rarely  alto- 
gether free.  The  domestic  affections  and  the  spring-time 
seem  his  favourite  subjects.  Some  of  his  songs  are  dry  and 
uninteresting,  and  the  melody,  though  sufficiently  clear  and 
prominent,  is  not  often  of  a  striking  description.  Few  songs 
can  be  named  on  the  whole  more  attractive  than  "  The  first 
Violet,"  the  "  Spring  Song"  ('*  Now  in  all  thy  verdant 
bowers"),  "  Retrospection,"  the  "  Pilgrim's  Song"  ('^  Let 
nothing  cloud"),  "  On  wings  of  Music,"  or  the  airy  little 
melody,  "  Outshining  Day  in  splendour ;"  or  the  singular  and 
most  original  songs  '*Yon  Reaper's  name,"  and  "The  Night- 
wind  rustles  the  branches."  Of  his  six  two-part  songs,  op. 
QSf  there  is  not  one  that  is  not  to  be  recommended  ;  perhaps 
the  most  pleasing  are  "  I  would  that  my  Love,"  "  Oh,  wert 
thou  in  the  cauld,  cauld  blast,"  and  "  The  Maybells  and  the 
Flowers." 

Mendelssohn's  vocal  quartetts,  published  in  the  "  Orpheus," 
are  perhaps  the  most  perfect  things  of  the  kind  in  existence. 
In  captivating  melody,  in  purity  and  fulness  of  harmony, 
added  to  that  impression  of  poiver  and  ease  which  belong  to 
the  works  of  the  greatest  musicians  alone,  they  are  unequalled. 
Three  or  four  books  of  the  "  Orpheus  "  consist  exclusively  of 
Mendelssohn's  quartetts,  of  which  No.  13  is  one  of  the  very 
best.  The  "  Orpheus"  generally  is  well  worth  the  attention 
of  singers.  It  consists  of  German  glees,  or  part-songs,  with 
English  words,  and  has  reached  nearly  30  books.  We  call 
these  compositions  glees,  though  their  style  is  often  quite 
unlike  that  of  the  English  glees ;  and  many  of  them  differ 
besides  from  the  glee,  in  being  adapted  to  performance  by  a 
large  body  of  voices.  Those  who  have  not  heard  such  pieces 
as  Mendelssohn's  hunting-song,  "  Now  Morning  advancing," 
sung  by  a  large  and  efficient  choir,  can  form  no  idea  of  the 
wild  and  expressive  beauty  of  many  of  the  works  of  this  class. 
The  "  Orpheon"  is  a  good  collection  of  part-songs  of  a  simple 
character. 

Before  leaving  Mendelssohn,  we  must  take  occasion  to 
remind  our  Catholic  choirs  that  he  has  written  some  Latin 
music  with  which  they  ought  to  be  acquainted.  His  "  Ave 
Maria,"  for  a  double  choir,  is  a  fine  work  ;  but  still  finer, 
though  easier,  are  his  "  Six  Motetts"  for  an  eight-part  chorus. 
These  are  in  the  simplest  form  of  counterpoint,  being  little 
more  than  successions  of  chords,  and  they  are  very  short ;  but 
they  are  noble  works,  eminently  expressive,  and  require 
nothing  but  a  body  of  voices  and  a  good  conductor  to  produce 

VOL.  I. NEW  SERIES.  X 


284  Music  for  Amateur  Performance. 

an  effect  quite  magnificent.*  While,  too,  we  are  on  Cliurcli* 
music,  we  must  not  forget  the  edition  of  Sebastian  Bach's 
Six  Motetts,  now  at  last  brought  out  with  an  English  translation 
of  the  German  words,  and  an  ad  libitum  accompaniment. 
Why  these  extraordinary  compositions  are  still  neglected  by 
oratorio  managers  we  cannot  conceive.  Those  who  know 
Sebastian  Bach  only  by  his  fugues,  will  be  astonished  at  the 
simplicity  of  melody  and  massive  grandeur  which  they  dis- 
play, together  with,  in  most  of  them,  a  pathos  as  affecting  as 
it  is  original.  None  but  Handel  could  have  written  these 
motetts ;  nor  indeed  could  Handel  himself,  for  the  genius  of 
Sebastian  Bach  was  essentially  his  own.  It  need  not  be 
added,  that  the  contrapuntal  skill  lavished  by  Bach  on  these 
choruses  is  worthy  of  the  immortal  fuguist. 

To  return,  however,  to  other  song-writers.  The  acknow- 
ledged head  of  the  German  school  is  Schubert,  for  variety, 
dramatic  truth  of  expression,  and  mastery  over  the  effects  of 
accompaniment.  Schubert  was  essentially  a  song-writer,  for 
his  other  works,  which  are  many,  are  of  ordinary  merit. 
Take  such  a  list  of  songs  as  '^  The  Erl-King,"  "  The  praise  of 
Music,"  the  "  Ave  Maria"  (from  the  Lady  of  the  Lake), 
"The  Trout,"  "  Huntsman,  rest,"  (also  from  the  Lady  of  the. 
Lake),  "  Murmuring  Brooklet"  (Liebesbotschaft),  *^  Cooling 
Zephyrs"  (Leise  flehen),  "  I  heard  a  Streamlet,"  ''  The 
praise  of  Tears,"  or  "  The  Postman's  Horn," — here  are  nearly, 
a  dozen  songs  of  striking  originality  and  rare  beauty,  an^H 
many  more  might  be  added  to  the  list  from  Schubert's  fertile 
pen. 

Curschmann,  on  the  other  hand,  is  a  composer  whose  pub- 
lished  writings  make  one  regret  that  a  taste  refined  almost  tc 
fastidiousness  made  its  possessor  so  singularly  sparing  in  th< 
songs  he  gave  to  the  world.  We  do  not  know  whether  any  oi 
his  unpublished  manuscripts  are  in  existence;  if  so,  a  pul 
lisher  could  hardly  do  better  than  bring  them  before  the 
English  public.  Great  simplicity  of  construction  marks  all 
Curschmann's  compositions,  a  simplicity  which,  in  the  hands 
of  an  inferior  writer,  becomes  mere  baldness  and  monotony. 
Not  so  in  these  elegant  and  finished  writings,  in  the  best  of 
which  we  hardly  know  which  most  to  admire,  the  grace  of  th< 
author's  conceptions,  or  the  delicate  perceptions  of  musical 
colouring  with  which  they  are  wrought  out.  Often  as  Sliakes- 
peare's  song, ."  Hark  !  the  Lark  at  heaven's  gate  sings,"  has 
been  set  to  music,  Curschmann's  setting  is  unequalled.  An- 
other of  his  most  popular  works  is  the  sparkling  and  flowing] 

*  These  motetts  have  been  frequently  sung  by  one  of  the  best  of  our  London  i 
choirs,  and  the  result  fully  bears  out  the  opinion  here  expressed. 


Music  for  Amateur  Performance,  285 

ong,  "  She  is  mine,"  a  perfect  gem  of  its  kind.  The  charm- 
ng  romance,  "  Blest  retreat"  (Hlittelein  fein),  is  an  instance 
)f  the  feeling  of  ease  with  which  abruptness  of  modulation 
:an  be  invested  bj  a  skilful  hand  and  chastened  taste. 
Scarcely  less  attractive  are  the  songs,  "  Awake,  thou  golden 
jlush  of  morn"  (An  Rose),  "  Welcome  be,  thou  light  of 
lature"  (Willkommen,  du  Gottes  Sonne),  and  "  What 
orm  now  passed  through  Twilight's  gloom  ?"  (Was  streift 
/onbei  im  Dammerlicht). 

Bernhard  Molique  (now,  we  believe,  resident  in  London) 
lias  published  several  excellent  songs,  well  suited  for  private 
performers  who  aim  at  expression  rather  than  astonishing 
execution.  "  Could  I  through  ether  fly"  is  one  of  the  best 
songs  ever  written,  and  in  melody  and  accompaniment  alike 
almost  unique.  "  Beneath  the  Linden's  shadow "  is  one  of 
Molique's  best  compositions,  full  of  repose  and  feeling.  An- 
other of  his  songs,  ''The  Maidens  of  Germany,"  of  a  more 
Hvely  kind,  is  deservedly  popular. 

Kiicken,  again,  is  a  fertile  composer,  many  of  whose  works 
deserve  frequent  performance,  and  are  adapted  for  amateur 
singing.  Some  clever  four-part  songs  of  his  are  published  in 
the  "  Orpheus  :"  "  In  yonder  Bower"  is  a  good  duet,  melo- 
dious, and  varied  in  treatment ;  and  of  his  single  songs, 
''Summer  and  Winter,"  "Birds  of  the  Forest,"  "The 
Spring's  mild  breezes,"  and  "  Even  is  fading,"  are  among 
the  best  we  are  acquainted  with. 

We  must  not,  however,  extend  our  list  too  far,  though 
the  present  German  school  is  singularly  rich  in  song-writers. 
We  can  only  name  two  or  three  more  specimens  of  other 
composers,  such  as  Lindblad's  "  Birds  swiftly  flying,"  Fes- 
ca's  "The  guiding  Star,"  or  Abt's  "When  the  Swallows  fly 
towards  home."  We  have  purposely  confined  ourselves,  at 
present,  to  German  writers,  as  being  more  suited  to  the  style 
of  singing  of  English  private  performers  than  the  more  florid 
schools  of  Italy,  and  as  having  more  intrinsic  character  and 
variety  than  the  generality  of  works  of  either  Italian  or 
English  composers.  Good  Italian  songs  are,  nevertheless, 
numerous  ;  and  good  English  songs  are  by  no  means  scarce, 
though  we  cannot  now  refer  to  them.  Among  Italians,  Gor- 
digiani,  for  instance,  possesses  a  high  reputation  ;  but  we  are 
not  acquainted  with  many  of  his  works.  One  little  set  of 
Italian  songs  we  may  mention,  in  passing,  as  they  have  but 
just  appeared,  "  Quattro  Canzonette,  da  Francesco  Berger  ;" 
purely  Italian  in  melody  and  idea,  but  more  enriched  than  is 
usual  in  the  works  of  average  Italian  musicians.  The  "  Bar- 
carole "  is  a  peculiarly  pretty  song ;  and  the  two  last  recal  the 


2S6  Short  Notices, 

character  (though  in  a  modern  shape)  of  Alessandro  Scarlatti' 
cantatas. 

Turning  to  pianoforte  compositions,  the  task  of  making  a 
selection  would  be  endless;  and  we  shall  accordingly  conteir 
ourselves  with  naming  "  The  Pianoforte  Player,"  a  collection 
of  pleasing  and  instructive  pieces  by  the  best  modern  writers, 
published  by  Ewer  and  Co.  These  are  generally  lighter  and 
more  easily  understood  on  a  first  or  second  hearing  than  the 
works  of  the  '*  classical"  masters;  and  while  requiring  good 
and  expressive  playing,  are  not  extravagantly  difficult  or 
uproariously  noisy.  The  same  may  be  said  of  a  set  of  pieces 
lying  before  us,  with  the  somewhat  affected  title,  *'Six  Poe- 
sies pour  le  Piano,  par  Charles  Evers."  These  are  clever  and 
agreeable  compositions,  especially  one  of  them  called  L* Insou- 
ciance, and  an  Andante  ReligiosOy  quite  classical  in  breadth 
and  sustained  sweetness. 

The  publication  which  stands  last  on  the  list  which  we 
have  placed  at  the  head  of  our  remarks,  though  not  coming 
strictly  within  their  scope,  is  one  which  we  take  the  oppor- 
tunity of  recommending  not  only  to  our  organists,  but  to  all 
musical  amateurs  to  whom  the  construction  of  the  organ  is 
little  known.  In  the  colonies  and  other  places  where  organ- 
tuners  are  scarce,  and  not  well  informed,  The  Organ  and  ih 
construction  will  prove  a  most  useful  guide  to  those  who  have 
any  thing  to  do  with  the  tuning  or  repairs  of  organs.  The 
book  may  also  be  very  profitably  consulted  by  persons  who  are 
about  to  give  a  commission  to  organ-builders.  It  contains  a 
great  deal  of  curious  information,  with  practical  directions 
the  amplest  character. 


THEOLOGY,  PHILOSOPHY,  &c. 

Notes,  Thcoloffical,  Political,  and  Miscellaneous,  by  Samuel  Taylor 
Coleridge.  This  is  a  volume  of  notes  collected  from  the  marginal  obser- 
vations written  in  books  perused  by  its  celebrated  author.  Though  con- 
taining much  that  is  sharp  and  clever,  and  a  good  deal  of  admirable 
criticism,  it  will  neither  increase  his  fame  nor  throw  any  new  light  on 
his  genius.  He  is  a  genuine  hero-worshipper;  and  we  have  here  a 
curious  selection  of  objects  of  his  cultus;  Luther,  as  usual,  predominaf 
ing  over  all  others  ;  for  there  is  some  charm  in  the  animal  impetuosi^ 
of  this  coarse  buffoon  which  strangely  fascinates  a  delicate  and  dand 
fied  philosoplier  like  Coleridge.  In  this  book  we  have  a  system  of  r 
ligion  very  similar  to  that  of  Mr.  Maurice,  woven  in  the  same  way,  HI 


Short  Notices.  287 

.  spider's- web  from  the  author's  own  viscera.  Man  is  the  centre ;  God 
s  but  a  branch  from  this  root.  "  Faith,"  he  says  (p.  384),  "  may  be 
lefined  as  fidelity  to  our  own  being."  In  accordance  with  this  prin- 
iple,  his  "  Confessio  Fidei"  commences,  ''  I  believe  that  I  am  a  free 
igent,"  &c.,  and  proceeds,  "  Hence  I  believe  that  there  is  a  God;"  and 

0  on.  As  to  the  Trinity,  it  is  ''  a  necessary  idea  of  my  speculative 
■eason,  deduced  from  the  necessary  postulate  of  an  intelligent  Creator." 
N^ow,  apart  from  the  habit  of  mind  which  this  deduction  of  theology 
rom  psychology  fosters,  namely,  the  looking  on  God  as  a  derivative 
rem  our  own  minds,  as  in  some  sense  our  creature  instead  of  our  Crea- 
or,  it  is  plain  that  faith  is  utterly  impossible  in  such  a  system.  We 
lannot  call  a  man  who  believes  on  no  other  grounds  but  these  any  thing 
hort  of  an  infidel,  a  hero-worshipper  of  the  lowest  type,  who  sees  his 
jrod  in  his  own  reflection,  and  acknowledges  no  Deity  that  is  not  an 
emanation  of  himself.  He  may  draw  out  his  creed  in  orthodox  terms; 
jut  while  he  receives  it  as  the  result  of  his  own  reason,  and  not  of  God's 
■evelation,  coming  to  him  not  from  without  but  from  within,  he  cannot 
)e  said  to  believe  God, — he  only  believes  himself.     Of  faith,  then,  such 

1  man  has  none,  for  he  receives  no  dogma  that  he  does  not  consider  to 
)e  demonstrated  by  reason  ;  while  of  reason  itself  he  cannot  be  said  to 
lave  much,  when  he  receives  such  demonstrations  as  valid.  Moreover, 
^oleridge  busies  himself  in  involving  sentences  in  obscure  words,  and 
n  reducing  moral  propositions  to  terms  of  mathematics,  thereby  giving 
o  his  philosophy  the  appearance  of  a  conundrum.  The  book  is  edited 
)y  the  Rev,  Derwent  Coleridge,  Principal  (we  believe)  of  the  National 
society's  Training  Establishment  for  Schoolmasters  at  Chelsea.  We 
lope,  for  their  own  sakes,  that  the  young  men  there  are  not  yet  suffici- 
ently advanced  to  be  introduced  to  this  empty  and  dreary  mysticism. 

The  publication  of  such  little  works  as  A  Companion  to  Confession 
ind  Holy  Communion,  translated  and  arranged  from  the  ancient  English 
)ffices  of  Sarum  use,  by  a  Layman  (London,  Lumley),  is  at  least  a 
cheering  token  that  the  Catholic  movement  in  the  Anglican  Establish- 
ment is  not  yet  extinct,  but  that  many  souls  within  its  pale  are,  we 
nay  hope,  being  gradually  taught  and  trained  to  embrace  the  Catholic 
:aith.  At  the  same  time,  such  works  fill  the  mind  with  most  painful 
misgivings  as  to  the  position  of  their  authors.  For  although  it  is  quite 
possible  that  many  simple  readers  may  be  misled  by  the  announcement 
that  "  the  greater  part  of  the  contents  of  this  volume  is  taken  from  the 
Enchiridion^  or  Hours,  being  the  manual  of  private  devotion  according 
to  the  English  use  of  Sarum,  of  which  more  than  one  hundred  editions 
were  circulated  in  this  country  during  the  latter  years  of  the  fifteenth 
and  the  first  half  of  the  sixteenth  century,"  yet  the  compiler  himself 
must  needs  know  already  that  what  he  is  thus  seeking  to  recommend  to 
his  co-religionists  as  national  is  really  Catholic ;  and  that  ^'  these  most 
Catholic  expressions  of  worship  and  praise,"  which  he  so  earnestly  en- 
treats the  clergy  of  his  communion  to  give  the  people  an  opportunity  of 
using,  by  "  allowing  proper  pauses  and  intervals,"  are  familiar  as  house- 
hold words  to  the  children  of  Holy  Church.  AVe  can  only  rejoice,  how- 
ever, that  Anglicans  should  have  such  angelic  compositions  as  the 
Laitda  Sion  Salvatorem,  the  Pange  lingua,  the  Adoro  Te  devote,  &c.,  set 
before  them  as  the  proper  language  of  devotion  with  reference  to  the 
Blessed  Sacrament.  It  may,  by  God's  blessing,  lead  some  to  seek  It 
where  alone  It  is  to  be  found. 

Jacqueline  Pascal,  or  Convent  Life  at  Port  Poyal.  Nisbet  and  Co. 
rhere  is  a  freemasonry  in  spiritual  as  in  political  rebellion ;  a  kind  of 
mock  Catholicity  in  heresy  and  schism,  which  secures  the  sympathies 


288  Short  Notices. 


^ 


of  private  '*  thinkers"  in  the  struggles  of  all  preceding  times  against 
authority.  Because  they  rebelled  against  Rome,  the  Waldenses  are 
heroes  with  living  Protestants,  in  spite  of  the  absurd  and  even  danger- 
ous opinions  which  they  maintained.  The  Albigenses  (who,  by  the  way, 
are  very  often  confounded  with  them),  notwithstanding  their  scandalous 
revival  of  some  of  the  worst  tenets  of  the  Manichees,  are  never  named  in 
a  Protestant  assembly  without  applause,  because  they  resisted  a  Catholic 
government.  And  so,  in  like  manner,  the  unhappy  Jansenists  have 
their  full  share  of  approbation,  to  the  extent  at  least  of  their  opposition 
to  the  Holy  See.  Their  Protestant  panegyrists,  indeed,  have  enough  to 
do  to  palliate  their  "  Roman  Catholic"  practices  ;  and  some  of  the  less 
scrupulous  among  them  sink  the.*e  altogether,  and  do  their  best  to  dress 
out  the  subject  in  modeni  Protestant  fashion.  The  anonymous  authoress 
of  this  little  work,  however,  is  not  one  of  these  ;  she  acknowledges  her 
inability  to  conceal  the  truth  that  they  heard  Mass,  and  invoked  "  the 
Virgin,"  and  thought  it  possible  to  cure  a  sick  child  by  means  of  a 
thorn  from  the  Redeemer's  crown;  like  any  poor  Irish  Papist  of  to-day. 
But  then  they  stood  up  and  defied  the  archbishop  and  the  Pope  himself; 
and  so  they  are  still  successful  candidates  for  favour.  Yet  her  honesty 
spoils  her  story  as  a  panegyric  ;  for  it  is  unusual  in  such  compositions 
to  be  constantly  protesting  against  the  daily  habits  of  one's  heroine. 
The  faithfulness  of  her  portraiture  is  attained  at  the  sacrifice  of  some  of 
its  attractiveness  for  most  of  her  readers. 

Misfortunes,  they  say,  make  strange  companionships;  and  so,  ^re 
say,  does  rebellion  against  authority.  Not  only  is  this  anonymon- 
writer  in  a  condition  of  constant  protest  against  the  acts  and  opinions  o! 
a  class  of  people  whom  she  has  selected  for  qualified  praise  ;  she  is  also 
at  issue  with  at  least  one  of  her  principal  authorities,*  M.  Victor  Cousin, 
of  French  University  notoriety.  Belonging  as  he  does  to  a  school  oi 
philosophy  which  openly  professes  deference  only  to  so  much  of  divil 
revelation  as  human  reason  can  appreciate,  his  English  translator 
turally  enough  thinks  him  hardly  a  safe  guide  to  a  just  estimate  of  hj 
heroine's  religious  character.  AVhile,  therefore,  she  uses  his  facts,  9| 
is  indebted  for  her  general  conclusions  to  M.  Vinet,  a  Swiss  Protestt 
minister;  so  that  this  latest  eulogium  of  Jansenism  is  a  joint  contril 
tion  from  English  and  Swiss  Protestantism  and  French  Eclecticisi 
As  long  as  the  assertion  of  private  opinion  in  religious  matters  is 
garded  as  the  inalienable  right  of  every  freeman,  it  is  very  certain 
the  Jansenists  will  never  want  admirers.  They  made  a  bold  sta 
against  authority,  and  they  were  defeated  in  the  long-run  ;  two 
ments  in  their  history  which  at  once  commend  them  to  the  ])rotectic 
of  every  Protestant.  He  does  not  stop  to  inquire  how  the  contest  _ 
carried  on,  with  what  weapons  of  carnal  warfare,  with  what  alliance 
of  sophistry  with  pride,  of  base  duplicity  with  unblushing  impudence. 
It  matters  little  to  what  evasions  and  equivocations,  to  what  seven 
judgments  and  hard  speeches  against  spiritual  authority,  women  as  wel 
as  men  stooped  in  its  progress,  while  all  the  time  pluming  themselve 
on  their  superiority  in  purity  of  doctrine,  and  the  keen  detection  o 
error,  to  the  supreme  ruler  of  Ciirist's  Church  ;  loudly  vindicating  tb< 
rights  of  conscience,  while  secretly  betraying  its  integrity.  The  Pop* 
was  on  one  side,  the  other  must  be  the  right  one  ;  he  carried  his  poin 
at  last,  it  therefore  becomes  the  Protestant  public  to  reverse  his 

*  It  is  a  significant  fact,  pointing  in  the  probable  direction  of  Scottish  Pr 
byterianism  in  the  future,  that  very  lately  the  works  of  M.  Victor  Cousin  wei 
read  as  a  text-book  in  the  Moral-Philosophy  class  of  the  Free-Church  College  \ 
Edinburgh.     "We  believe  they  still  continue  to  be. 


Short  Notices,  ^89 

tence,  and  patronise  his  victims.     This  is  all  that  most  of  the  living 
patrons  of  the  Jansenists  know  about  it. 

Jacqueline  Pascal,  tlie  heroine  of  this  book,  may  have  been  a  self- 
denying,  prayerful  nun ;  a  fond  daughter,  an  affectionate  sister ;  but 
an  humble  Christian  she  could  not  have  been,  when  she  indited  such 
lines  as  these  ;  "  When  bishops  seem  to  have  tl)e  cowardice  of  women, 
women  ought  to  have  the  boldness  of  bishops"  (p.  187).  For  ingenious 
evasion,  prevarication,  and  suppression  of  the  truth,  her  examination 
by  the  Grand  Vicar  of  Paris,  detailed  at  page  176,  will  not  lose  by 
comparison  with  the  highest  efforts  of  accused  persons  o^  the  Artful 
Dodger's  school.  If  quibbling  is  a  work  of  sanctity,  Jacqueline  Pascal 
was  a  saint  of  the  first  class.  The  book  is  full  of  similar  evidence 
against  the  reality  of  any  spiritual  motive  in  this  unholy  contest;  tried 
by  the  simplest  principles  and  tests  of  moral  conduct,  Jansenism,  by 
its  own  showing,  and  as  its  advocates  portray  it,  is  branded  from  be- 
neath rather  than  sealed  from  above. 

There  is  an  ''  Introduction"  to  this  volume  from  the  pen  of  ''  the 
Rev.  W.  R.  Williams,  D.D.,"  who,  with  M.  Frangere,  another  foreign 
authority,  completes  the  association  of  Hve  in  this  act  of  homage  to  the 
good  name  of  expiring  Jansenism.  He  furnishes  the  book  with  its 
passport  as  a  sound  Protestant,  in  spite  of  all  kinds  of  "  Roman  Ca- 
tholic" stories  and  practices  that  are  to  be  found  in  its  later  pages,  by  ' 
utterly  demolishing  the  system  of  Popery  in  a  few  pages  of  vigorous 
writing,  and  on  its  ruins  inaugurating  the  image  of  Jansenism  in  the 
person  of  Jacqueline  Pascal,  its  fairest  ornament.  In  this  introduction 
there  is  a  sentence  of  moi'c  significance  than  usual.  "  Some  thinkers 
— the  renowned  Dr.  Wardlaw  in  his  late  work  on  miracles  is  one  of 
them — deny  the  power  of  working  miracles  to  any  but  the  One  Su- 
preme God."  It  does  not  seem  to  occur  to  "  Dr.  Williams"  that  ou^ 
Lord  is  at  issue  with  this  "  renowned  thinker,"  when  He  declares  to  his 
apOs^tles  that  "  greater  works  than  these," — that  is,  than  His  own  mira- 
culous works, — ''  shall  ye  do,  because  I  go  to  my  Father.'^ 

Among  minor  works,  partaking  more  or  less  of  a  theological  cha- 
racter, we  have  The  Law  of  Opportunities,  by  the  Rev.  H.  E.  Manning, 
late  Archdeacon  of  Chichester  (Richardson),  a  sermon  full  of  valuable 
thoughts,  well  expressed,  and  altogether  worthy  of  its  gifted  author. 
There  is  an  unfortunate  misprint  in  p.  13,  of"  man"  for  "  God,"  which 
makes  nonsense  of  the  whole  passage.  By  the  bye,  we  would  venture 
to  express  a  hope  that  the  reminiscence  of  a  Protestant  dignity,  preserved 
on  the  title-page  of  this  sermon,  will  henceforward  be  allowed  to  drop 
into  oblivion,  and  the  author's  Catholic  dignity  of  D.D.  be  commemo- 
rated in  its  stead.  A  short  Account  of  James  Nicol,  a  Private  Soldier , 
stating  how  he  became  a  Catholic,  in  a  Letter  to  a  Friend  (London, 
Dolman),  a  very  simple  and  instructive  narrative,  originally  published, 
it  appears,  in  the  Telegrayh^  only  ten  days  before  its  author  died  ;  and 
republislied  now,  we  gather,  by  the  Earl  of  Shrewsbury,  as  a  token  of 
aflectionate  remembrance  of  a  faithful  and  valued  domestic.  We  are 
almost  inclined  to  regret  that  it  has  not  been  published  in  a  cheaper  form, 
so  as  to  secure  for  it  a  larger  circulation  amongst  the  poor,  and  persons  in 
his  own  class  of  life.  Endologics,  or  Interior  Conversations  ivith  Jesus 
flwrf  il/ary  (Richardson),  a  pleasing  collection  of  devotions  translated 
from  the  Latin  of  the  Venerable  Louis  Blosius ;  and  Instructions  on  the 
Prayer  of  Becollection  by  St.  I'eresa  (Burns  and  Lambert),  translated 
from  the  Spanish,  with  an  introduction  on  living  in  union  with  Jesus 
Christ,  for  the  use  of  the  students  of  St.  Cuthbert's  College,  Ushaw. 

Tlie  Youth  and  Womanlwod  of  Helen   Tyrrel,  by   the  Author  of 


^90  Short  Notices. 

"Brompton  Rectory,"   *' Compton   Merivale,"  &c.  (London,   J.  W. 
Parker),  is  a  religious  novel,  intended  to  propagate  the  opinions  taught 
by  Mr.  Maurice.     The  opposition  of  persons  of  this  school  to  tlie  hard 
and  hypocritical  Calvinism  of  the  Evangelicals  enlists  our  symy>athy, 
but  they  should  remember  that  ^'diaii  vitant  stulti  vitia,  hi  contraria 
curruntJ'     They  might  controvert  the  repulsive  rationalism  of  Calvin 
•without  traducing  reason,  and  setting  up  the  feelings  as  the  one  test 
of  truth.     They  first  of  all  feel  disgust  at  the  Calvinist  doctrine  of  the 
Atonement,  which  teaches  that  our  Lord  suffered  the  punishment  due 
to  the  sins  of  the  elect,  who  alone  have  any  interest  in  tliem.     This, 
they  feel  to  be  a  "selfish  doctrine."    They  "never  could  derive  any 
comfort  from  the  thought  that  another  had  suffered  for"  them  (p.  92); 
hence  they  reject  all  notion  of  the  satisfaction  of  God's  justice,  and  of 
the  penal  character  of  our  Lord's  sufferings.    The  ancient  idea  of  punish- 
ment was  certainly  vengeance ;  the  Christian  idea  of  it  is  that  it  is  for 
the  security  of  society,  the  reformation  of  the  offender,  and  for  an  ex- 
pression of  righteous  indignation  against  crime;  therefore,  to  suppose 
that  God  took  vengeance  of  our  sins  by  the  sufferings  of  Christ  is  repug- 
nant to  modern  ideas.     The  ancient  notion  of  a  sacrifice  must  once 
have  expressed  a  truth,  but  now  it  has  become  exploded.     Our  Lord  did 
not  really  bear  the  sins  of  man.      It  is  shocking  to  think  of  the  All-just 
punishing  the  innocent  for  the  guilty.     He  simply  made  a  perfect  sub- 
mission of  His  will  to  God  in  all  things,  even  in  the  greatest  trials; 
in  other  words,  exercised  perfect  virtue,  and  in  reward  for  His  virtue 
was  allowed  to  deliver  the  whole  human  race  from  the  punishment  due 
to  their  crimes.    This  is  their  creed ;  and  while  our  Lord  is  thus  reduced 
to  the  level  of  a  Moses,  or  Job,  or  Paul,  who  were  all,  in  consideration 
of  their  virtues,  allowed  to  intercede  successfully  for  offenders.  Catho- 
lics are  accused  of  making  the  Saints  real  mediators  between  man  and 
an  offended  God  (p.  170).       "  First,  God  is  looked  upon  as  in  somej 
sense  the  adversary  of  man,  and  Christ  as  a  patron,  who  is  to  shield  usj 
from  his  wrath.     Then  Christ  Himself,  His  human  nature  being  a  little] 
thrown  into  the  shade,  becomes  too  much  identified  with   God  to  be| 
alone  trusted,  and  recourse  is  had  to  some  more  merciful  and  more  sym- 
pathising being  to  intercede  with  Him.     And  here  come  in  Mariohitryj 
and  the  worship  of  the  Saints."     This  is  a  gross  misrepresentation  ;  w( 
believe  Christ  to  be  the  only  Mediator  of  Justice,  who  in  His  own  bodj 
satisfied  the  justice  of  God  for  tiie  sins  of  the  whole  world;  and  Mary] 
and  the  other  Saints  we  believe  to  be  mere  human  beings,  redeemed  by| 
Him,  whom  in  consequence  of  their  virtues  He  delights  to  honour;  an(" 
He  chooses  to  honour  them  by  making  them  the  channels  of  His  favours 
to  their  brethren  on  earth.     This  is  the  great  doctrine  of  St.  Alphonsus'| 
"  Glories  of  Mary."     God,  in  order  to  honour  Mary,  has  decreed  that 
whatever  gifts  and  graces  are  given  to  men,  should  be  given  to  them  byl 
her  intercession.     It  is  not  our  fault  that  the  school  of  Mr.  Maurice  will" 
only  allow  the  same  power  to  the  intercession  of  Christ  that  we  attribute 
to  that  of  the  Blessed  Virgin.     Because  they  dishonour  the  Son,  it  is 
no  reason  why  we  should  dishonour  the  Mother.     Nay,  it  is  rather  a 
further  argument  for  our  practice,    that  it  is  the  greatest   safeguard 
against  this,  as  against  all  other  heresies  respecting  the  person  and  office 
of  our  Lord.     This  author  utterly  rejects  what  he  calls  the  Augustiniaa 
doctrine  of  original  sin;  he  owns  the  hereditary  depravity  of  our  race,, 
but  seems  to  attribute  it  to  physiological  causes,  and  to  defective  edu- 
cation.    He  does  not  quite  reject  the  idea  of  the  eternal  duration  of  tliej 
punishment  of  the  damned;  but  he  limits  it  to  those  who  finally  refusetj 
to  submit  to  the  truth.     He  suppo-es  that  after  death  those  who  have' 
not  had  fair  opportunities  here  will  be  again  put  on  their  triah 


Short  Notices.  291 

Altogether,  it  appears  to  us  that  the  school  represented  in  these  novels 
is  stirring  and  active,  and  well  deserves  the  attention  of  the  Catholic 
controversialist.  The  tale  itself  is  only  intended  for  a  thread  to  string 
the  theology  upon,  and  we  have  noticed  it  here  therefore  in  its  proper 
place,  as  a  theological  work. 


MISCELLANEOUS  LITEKATURE. 

The  Play  Grammar,  by  Miss  Corner;  Papa  and  Mamma's  Easy 
Lessons  in  Geograjihy,  by  Anna  Maria  Sargeant.  (London,  Dean  and 
Son.)  We  are  not,  generally  speaking,  very  favourable  to  "  learning 
made  easy;"  that  is  to  saj^,  we  greatly  question  the  usefulness  of  the 
attempt  to  amalgamate  play  and  study,  by  conveying  grammar  and 
geography  and  history  through  the  medium  of  story-books.  To  us  the 
result  is  what  a  lady  of  our  acquaintance  pronounced  the  mixture  of 
wine  and  water  to  be,  "  spoliation  to  both.''  A  child  ought  to  set  itself 
to  its  work  in  a  different  frame  of  mind  from  that  in  which  it  betakes 
itself  to  its  play  ;  in  the  one  case  there  ought  to  be  some  little  tension 
of  the  intellectual  faculties,  in  the  other  their  relaxation  can,  we  think, 
scarcely  be  too  complete.  These  remarks,  however,  scarcely  apply  to 
either  of  the  two  little  books  before  us  :  the  one  on  geography  makes  no 
pretence  of  being  a  book  of  amusement ;  it  is  only  an  attempt  to  simplify 
the  study,  and  appears  to  us  in  no  way  less  difficult  or  more  attractive 
than  ordinary  school-books  on  the  same  subject;  indeed  we  think  that 
few  children  who  set  out,  as  the  little  hero  and  heroines  before  us  are 
said  to  do,  with  disliking  geography  on  account  of  its  being  "so  hard," 
would  consider  these  lessons  of  Papa's  either  ''  easy"  or  delightful.  As 
a  school-book,  however,  containing  a  good  introduction  to  what  is  com- 
monly called  the  use  of  the  globes,  it  may  be  recommended.  The  little 
book  on  grammar  is,  we  think,  much  more  successful ;  though  we  have 
ourselves  seldom  met  with  children  so  clear-headed  as  those  here  sup- 
posed, or  so  accommodating  as  to  find  a  ''grammar-play"  a  really  en- 
tertaining pastime.  The  explanations  for  the  most  part  are  accurate  and 
clever.  We  must  except,  however,  that  of  the  cases,  in  which  it  is  said 
that  ''nouns,  &c.  are  in  the  nominative  case  when  they  come  before  the 
verb,  and  in  the  objective  when  they  come  after  it;"  and  again,  in  the 
sentence  "  your  cousin  writes,"  we  are  told  that  "  the  noun  cousin  comes 
before  the  verb,  and  it  is  that  which  causes  it  to  be  in  the  nominative 
case ;"  thus  referring  to  a  mere  accident  of  position,  and  that  peculiar  to 
certain  languages,  distinctions  which  exist  in  the  real  nature  of  things. 
Besides,  it  does  not  hold  good;  the  very  example  given,  "your  cousin 
writes,"  with  a  certain  context,  would  stand  "  thus  writes  your  cousin  ;" 
and  nothing  can  be  more  common  than  the  expression  "said  Lucy," 
"  said  he  ;"  which  nouns  and  pronouns,  according  to  Miss  Corner's  rule, 
should  be  in  the  nominative.  Again,  the  objective  case,  especially  in 
poetry,  is  not  unfrequently  put  before  the  verb ; 

"  Achilles'  wrath,  to  Greece  the  direful  spring 
Of  woes  unnumbered,  heavenly  goddess  sing." 

This  great  fault  should  be  corrected  in  a  second  edition  ;  and  we  are 
sure  such  clear-headed  little  people  as  Fanny  and  Herbert  will  have  no 
difficulty  whatever  in  taking  in  the  distinction  between  subject  and  object. 


S92  Short  Notices, 


1 


Chambers^  Educational  Course  (Edinburgh,  W.  and  R,  Chambers,) 
is  a  series  of  small  books  on  Grammar,  Arithmetic,  Geometry,  Natural 
Philosophy,  together  with  German  Reading-Books,  editions  of  Caesar's 
Commentaries,  Phaedrus,  Ovid,  and  select  Orations  of  Cicero ;  all  of 
which  seem  to  have  been  compiled  and  arranged  with  diligence  and 
care,  and  to  form  a  very  useful  class  of  books  for  children.  In  the 
Latin  Grammar  the  origin  of  the  various  inflexions  is  carefully  traced, 
which  to  the  intelligent  student  will  greatly  facilitate  the  acquirement  of 
them.  They  have  the  additional  advantage  of  being  cheap,  the  price 
varying  from  one  to  three  shillings  ;  and  where  the  subject  requires  it, 
the  books  are  illustrated. 

The  Illustrated  London  Spelling  Book  and  the  Illusti'ated  Beading 
Book  (Kathaniel  Cooke).  Several  of  the  illustrations  of  these  books 
are  very  good  indeed  ;  of  course,  many  have  been  used  before,  and 
sometimes,  as  in  the  fable  of  the  two  owls  and  the  sparrow,  we  have  an 
illustration  made  up  of  three  blocks,  two  owls  of  different  species  from 
some  ornithological  book,  and  a  sparrow  cut  for  the  occasion.  The 
matter  of  the  books  is  generally  unobjectionable,  and  we  have  heard 
the  spelling-book  highly  spoken  of  by  teachers.  Its  circulation  has 
reached  its  180th  thousand,  and  that  of  the  reading-book  its  41st  thou- 
sand.    Their  great  popularity  speaks  well  for  their  utility. 

History  of  the  Christian  Church  to  the  Pontijicate  of  Gregory  the 
Great,  a.  d.  1G90.  Intended  for  general  readers  as  well  as  for  Students 
of  Theology,  By  James  Craigie  Robertson,  M.A.,  Vicar  of  Bekesbourne 
(London,  Murray),  is  certainly  an  able  and  very  readable  compilation 
and  abridgment;  generally  fair,  and  in  a  much  more  believing  spirit 
than  Protestant  historians  can  usually  afford  to  exhibit.  "  There  may 
be  too  much  hardness  in  rejecting  traditions,"  he  says,  '^  as  well  as 
too  great  easiness  in  receiving  them.  Modern  criticism  is  fallible,  as 
well  as  ancient  belief"  (p.  2).  The  only  Catholic  doctrine  which  the 
author  seems  to  regard  with  any  bitterness  is  that  of  the  universal  su- 
premacy of  the  Bishop  of  Rome,  with  regard  to  which  he  certainly  has 
not  behaved  as  an  honourable  and  fair-minded  controversial  historian. 
On  this  subject  his  "  Romish"  authorities  are  such  men  as  Tillemont 
and  Basnage,  while  those  whom  he  follows  are  Mosheim,  Beavan, 
Burton,  and  Neander.  A  man  who  wished  to  be  fair  to  both  sides, 
would  certainly  have  made  some  allusion  to  such  works  as  those  of  Mr. 
Allies  on  the  See  of  Peter,  or  to  the  arguments  on  this  point  in  Father 
Newman's  "  Development."  He  does  allude  to  this  latter  book,  but 
only  to  insinuate  that  *'  the  new  Romish  theories  of  our  day  may  be 
regarded  as  dispensing  even  tlie  controversial  opponents  of  Rome  from 
the  necessity  of  proving  that  in  the  earliest  times  of  Christianity  no  such 
supremacy  w'as  known  or  imagined."  Elsewhere  he  recognises  the 
theory  of  Development  as  true  in  fact;  so  that  we  can  hardly  look  upon 
this  insinuation  as  perfectly  honest;  more  especially  since,  to  the  best 
of  our  recollection.  Dr.  Newman  insists  in  this  case  on  the  development 
of  evidence  as  much  as  on  the  development  of  doctrine.  Mr.  Robert- 
son finds  some  short-coming  in  each  portion  of  evidence  for  the  Papal 
supremacy  in  detail,  and  thus  commits  the  fallacy  of  supposing  that 
he  has  demolished  the  ensemble  of  the  evidence. 

We  are  sorry  to  be  obliged  to  postpone  till  our  next  number  our 
review  of  the  Lectures  on  the  History  of  the  Turks  in  its  relation  to 
Christianity,  by  the  author  of  io5A'  and  Gain  (Dublin,  J.  Duffy;  Lon- 
don, Dolman) ;  and  we  believe  it  is  not  generally  known  that  the  same 
author  has  published  a  little  volume  of  Verses  on  Meligious  Subject* 


Short  Notices.  293 

(Dublin,  J.  Duffy),  most  of  which  have  appeared  in  print  before,  but 
"  are  brought  together  by  the  writer  in  their  present  form,  in  the  hope 
that  they  may  be  acceptable  and  useful  to  his  immediate  friends,  peni- 
tents, and  people." 


Memoirs  of  John  Abernethy,  F.R.S.,  ivith  a  view  of  Ms  Lectures, 
Writings,  and  Character,  by  G.  Macilwain,  F.R.C.S.  (2  vols.  Hurst 
and  lilackett).  We  should  have  preferred  this  book  if  it  had  been  com- 
pressed into  one  volume ;  but  perhaps  those  persons  who  have  less  to 
read  than  we  have  will  like  it  better  as  it  is.  Abernethy  was  a  man 
who  quite  deserved  some  such  memorial,  and  the  author  has  accom- 
plished his  task  in  a  creditable  manner;  the  style  is  rather  loose  and 
diluted,  but  occasionally  there  may  be  found  clear  and  popular  expla- 
nations of  the  fundamental  principles  of  medicine. 

Travels  in  Bolivia,  with  a  Tour  across  the  Pampas  to  Buenos  Ayres, 
by  L.  Hugh  de  Bonelli,  of  her  Britannic  Majesty's  Legation  (2  vols., 
Hurst  and^Blackett).  M.  de  Bonelli  is  a  good-natured  gentleman,  with 
a  long  purse,  and  an  ordinary  quantity  of  brains,  who  has  written  not  a 
striking,  but  an  amusing  account  of  his  travels  and  sporting  excursions 
in  South  America.  He  adds  his  testimony  to  that  of  so  many  others 
who  have  reported  to  us  the  moral  degradation  of  society  in  the  states 
of  that  continent. 

The  Cross  and  the  Dragon,  or  the  Fortunes  of  Christianity  in  China, 
by  J.  Kesson,  of  the  British  Museum  (London,  Smith,  Elder,  and  Co.). 
The  author  has  been  happy  in  his  subject,  which  has  not,  so  far  as  we  know, 
been  before  separately  treated  in  English,  He  commences  with  the  first 
introduction  of  Nestorianism,  and  ends  with  the  attempts  of  the  Protes- 
tant missionaries.  He  extracts  pretty  freely  from  the  Lettres  curieuses 
et  edifiantes,  and  is  disposed  to  render  to  all  what  he  considers  a  due 
portion  of  praise.  But  he  has  one  great  drawback  as  an  historian  of 
Christianity,  and  that  is,  his  ludicrous  ignorance  of  its  doctrines.  He 
may  have  his  own  theories  on  the  subject,  but  it  is  rather  unphilosophical 
to  suppose  that  St.  Francis  Xavier  must  have  held  the  same,  or  that  his 
acts  are  to  be  judged  by  them.  Mr.  Kesson  does  not  think  that  a  firm 
possession  of  belief  in  the  Creed,  a  promise  to  keep  the  Ten  Command- 
ments, the  use  of  the  Pater  and  Ave,  together  with  the  Sacrament  of 
Baptism,  constitute  a  Christian.  As  to  baptism,  indeed,  he  does  not 
understand  it  at  all ;  the  work  of  the  Holy  Infancy  for  the  baptism  of 
moribund  children,  is  supposed  to  be  only  a  contrivance,  and  a  very 
clumsy  one,  for  recommending  our  religion  to  the  Chinese.  The  true 
foundations  for  Chinese  Cliristianity  are,  first,  commerce,  which  is  the 
key,  and  secondly,  Morrison's  Chinese  Dictionai^ .  Moreover,  Mr. 
Kesson  is  not  disposed  to  give  any  body  else  credit  for  more  know- 
ledge of  Christianity  than  he  himself  possesses.  An  early  Franciscan 
missionary,  John  of  Mount  Corvin,  in  writing  to  the  prior  of  his  monas- 
tery concerning  his  successes,  naturally  enough  gives  the  statistics  of 
baptisms  and  masses,  and  tells  how  many  scholars  join  him  in  saying 
office,  and  how  the  faithful  assemble,  as  in  Europe,  to  the  sound  of  the 
bell;  on  VNliich  our  author  remarks,  ''his  Christianity,  as  described  in 
his  letters,  consisted  almost  entirely  in  external  rites,  baptism,  mass, 
bells,  singing  office  ;  we  have  no  account  of  the  quality  or  of  the  aniount 
of  the  Christian  instruction  to  be  imparted. ^^  We  are  afraid  that  the 
holy  friar's  letters  would  have  been  voted  slow  by  his  brethren  if  he  had 
treated  them  to  all  his  lessons  in  the  ABC  of  religion.     In  spite  of  all 


294  Sliort  Notices, 

this,  we  recommend  the  book  heartily.  It  is  not  written  by  a  blind 
bigot,  but  by  a  man  who  is  as  fair  as  his  ignorance  will  permit  him  to 
be.  The  following  is  his  opinion  of  the  Jesuit  missionaries :  **  The 
Jesuit  was  a  man  of  the  world,  in  the  best  sense  of  the  word.  He 
did  not  strive  nor  cry  nor  make  much  ado  about  his  intentions.  He 
made  no  parade  of  superior  knowledge  or  morals  over  the  native  Chinese, 
though  he  possessed  both.  He  did  not  walk  the  streets  of  Nankin  or 
Pekin  barefooted,  clad  in  camlet  gown,  with  tonsure,  or  outward 
mark  of  sect  and  peculiar  fellowship  ;  but  he  walked  abroad  like  a 
sensible  man,  provoking  no  jealousy  if  he  could  help  it,  shocking  no 
prejudice  unless  it  was  criminal,  and  making  his  religion,  not  a  cause 
of  offence,  but,  if  possible,  an  enticement  and  a  solace." 

The  statistics  of  Catholicity  in  China  are  cheering  ;  though  the 
missionaries  were  once  in  such  favour  at  court,  the  number  of  Chinese 
Catholics  seems  never  to  have  been  much  over  300,000;  and  in  1848  it 
"was  315,000  (p.  1C4).  It  is  not  to  be  expected  that  Protestant  mission- 
aries should  have  done  much  yet,  as  they  have  been  at  work  for  only 
fifty  years,  and  as  it  was  only  after  the  death  of  his  second  wife  that 
Guzlaf,  their  chief,  considered  the  ^'  Church"  to  be  his  bride  ;  [Querj\ 
Is  a  wife  a  necessary  adjunct  to  a  Protestant  missionary?  We  observe 
that  Dr.  Judson,  the  great  American  missionarj^,  had  three.']  The  sta- 
tistics of  Protestantism  are  therefore  confined  to  the  number  of  Bibles  and 
tracts  distributed  ;  the  total  being  991,373.  "  In  spite  of  which  flat- 
tering statistics,  it  is  difficult  to  believe  that  much  has  been  yet  done  in 
the  evangelisation  of  China.'*  He  explodes  the  foolish  notion  that  the 
leaders  of  the  existing  revolution  are  Protestants,  and  adds  a  chapter 
on  tlie  Triad  societies,  which  are  the  real  movers  of  it. 

Is  Symbolism  suited  to  the  Spirit  of  the  Age?  is  a  question  proposed 
by  Mr.  W.  White  (London,  Bosworth),  and  solved  by  the  interrogator 
in  the  affirmative,  on  the  double  ground,  that  it  is  both  natural  to  the 
human  heart,  and  divinely  appointed  in  the  supernatural  order  of  things 
revealed  to  us  both  in  the  Old  and  New  Testaments. 

Saville  House,  an  historical  romance  of  the  time  of  George  the  First 
(vol.  2,  London,  Routledge  &  Co.),  is  a  tale  not  wnthout  talent,  but 
full  of  horrors,  of  sins  and  awful  miseries,  some  of  which  are  the  im- 
mediate result  of  the  penal  laws  of  those  days  against  Catholics.  The 
principal  "  villain"  of  the  book  is  a  real  character  of  the  time,  an  apos- 
tate priest,  named  Richard  Hitchmongh ;  whom  the  author  (though  clearly 
himself  a  Protestant)  has  estimated  at  his  real  worth,  and  painted  as  a 
monster  capable  of  every  atrocity.  If  we  may  judge  from  certain  let- 
ters and  depositions  of  his,  still  extant  among  the  records  of  the  Tower, 
and  copies  of  which  in  ms.  are  now  lying  before  us,  he  was  indeed  a  traitor 
of  the  deepest  dye.  In  October  1716,  we  find  him  giving  information  at 
Preston  concerning  the  names  of  the  "  four  Popish  bishops  constantly  re- 
siding in  England;"  of  one  of  whom  he  wickedly  says,  that  "his  title  in 
the  Pope's  bull  is  Chalcedon,  hut  meant  Canterbury  f  and  of  all,  that 
each  had  an  annual  allowance  of  2000Z.  from  Rome  !  He  names  all  the 
English  colleges  in  foreign  parts  for  the  education  of  secular  clergy, 
and  all  the  religious  houses  for  English  monks  and  nuns  ;  "nor  is  Eng- 
land itself,"  he  says,  "without  Popish  religious  houses,  there  being 
now  (or  very  lately  were)  two  nunneries, — one  at  Hammersmith,  in  the 
county  of  Middlesex,  and  the  other  in  the  city  of  York, — but  pretended 
to  be  only  boarding-schools  for  the  education  of  young  gentlewomen.'^ 
He  adds,  that  1000  Popish  priests  are  alloted  for  England,  all  registered 
at  the  Propaganda  in  Rome  ;  and  when  one  dies,  immediately  another 
takes  his  place:  and  that  "  there  goes  out  of  England  communibus  annis 


Short  Notices*  295 

at  least  150,000/.,  which  arises  from  lands  and  tenements  in  England 
devoted  to  superstitious  uses  V  This  veracious  informer  was  at  this 
very  time  ''a  clergyman  of  the  Church  of  England,"  and  seems  to  have 
been  often  appealed  to  by  government  to  give  information  concerning 
"suspected  Papists."  The  beginning  and  ending  of  a  letter  of  his, 
dated  from  Preston,  May  9th,  1718,  are  very  significant,  and  are  worth 
preserving  as  specimens  of  the  time:  ''  Honoured  sirs, — After  recollect- 
iny  myself  as  far  as  J  am  capable  at  present,  I  have,  according  to  your 
commands,  sent  up  the  best  account  I  am  able  to  give  of  Sir  Laurence 
Anderton.  .  .  .  If  there  be  any  thing  material  which  I  can  call  to  jnind 
on  this  subject^  I  shall  not  be  wanting  in  giving  your  honours  a  just 
account."  He  made  depositions  also  concerning  Philip  Gerard,  a  Je- 
suit, and  brother  of  Mrs.  Frances  Fleetwood,  both  of  whom  are  intro- 
duced into  this  novel ;  but  beyond  this,  and  the  fact  that  Hitchmough 
held  the  living  of  Garston,  we  believe  there  is  no  historical  foundation 
for  the  plot  and  the  various  tragical  incidents  oi'  Saville  House. 

In  these  days  of  cheap  literature  and  reading  for  the  million,  which 
generally  involves  poor  paper,  vile  printing,  and  execrable  "  getting- 
up,"  it  is  quite  refreshing  to  see  such  an  edition  of  the  poems  of  Sir 
Walter  Scott  as  Messrs.  Black,  of  Edinburgh,  are  now  bringing  out. 
We  have  seldom  seen  books  which  reflect  more  credit  on  their  pub- 
lishers, than  the  editions  now  before  us  of  The  Lady  of  the  Lake  and  The 
Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel.  The  editorial  department  is  conducted  both 
with  diligence  and  ability;  all  the  author's  introductions  to  these  poems, 
his  notes,  his  various  readings  and  corrections,  are  faithfully  preserved; 
and  many  original  notes  of  great  interest  are  contributed  by  the  editor 
himself,  such  as  the  most  remarkable  criticisms  on  particular  passages 
in  the  p£)ems,  historical  or  biographical  details  illustrative  of  the  text, 
&c.  &c.  A  hundred  engravings  on  wood,  of  great  merit,  are  added  by 
Messrs.  Birket  Foster  and  John  Gilbert;  and  the  printers  have  exe- 
cuted their  portion  of  the  work  with  a  degree  of  perfection  which  really 
leaves  nothing  to  desire. 

We  are  glad  to  see  the  first  four  or  five  numbers  of  the  Clifton  Talcs 
and  Narratives  (Burns  and  Lambert)  collected  into  a  volume,  very  ele- 
gantly bound.  In  this  form  they  can  be  conveniently  used  for  lending- 
libraries,  school-prizes,  presents,  &c.  We  understand  that  the  first 
edition  of  the  earlier  numbers  of  these  popular  tales  is  already  nearly 
exhausted. 

Miss  E.  M.  Stewart  has  evidently  a  peculiar  theory  as  to  the  most 
interesting  position  in  which  to  represent  her  heroines.  We  observe, 
that  in  most  of  her  London  City  Tales  (Nathaniel  Cooke),  the  he- 
roine is  "in  love"  with  the  hero,  when  his  affections  are  either  set 
upon  another,  or  are  altogether  disengaged,  or,  at  any  rate,  are  but  in 
a  very  lukewarm  condition  as  far  as  regards  herself.  We  cannot  say 
that  we  like  this;  still  less  do  we  like  the  heroine  of  the  tale  of  the 
"  Grocers'  Company,"  who  is  in  love  with  nobody,  but  promises  to  be 
married  to  some  half-dozen  persons  in  succession,  and  then  poisons 
them  all  on  the  eve  of  the  wedding.  We  have  no  other  fault  to  find 
with  these  tales,  which  are  of  average  merit,  and  are  intended  to  repre- 
sent "  the  customs  and  costume,  the  houses  and  the  habits,  and  the 
modes  of  thought  and  action,  of  the  citizens  of  London,  from  the  time 
of  the  Plantagenets  to  that  of  the  Stuarts." 

The  last  volume  of  Bohn's  Standard  Library  \^  The  Carafas  of  Mad- 
daloni,  or  Naples  under  Spanish  Dominion,  translated  from  the  Ger- 
man of  Alfred  de  Reumont.     It  is  a  most  valuable  contribution,  not 


296  Short  Notices. 

only  to  Neapolitan,  but  to  Italian  history  generally;  for  Avhlle  the 
main  thread  of  the  narrative  reveals  to  us  the  condition  of  Naples  under 
the  dominion  of  Spain,  interwoven  with  the  destinies  of  one  of  the  prin- 
cipal families  in  that  city,  there  are  many  important  episodes,  which 
throw  liofht  on  contemporary  history  in  Rome,  Milan,  and  other  parts  of 
Italy.  M.  de  Reumont  is  a  Protestant,  but  investigates  facts  very 
carefully,  and  writes  without  bigotry.  Indeed,  the  work  is  compiled 
with  so  much  diligence,  that  we  suspect  much  of  its  contents  will  be 
new  even  to  Neapolitans  themselves.  To  the  student  of  Italian  history 
it  is  invaluable. 

We  have  been  disappointed  in  Home  Life  in  Germany,  by  C.  L. 
Brace.  (London,  Bentley.)  Its  title  and  its  motto — "We  want  a  history 
of  firesides,"  Webster — did  not  lead  us  to  anticipate  such  interminable 
disquisitions  on  war  and  politics  as  we  have  found.     The  author  is  an 
American,  not  deficient  in  intelligence,  ardently  Protestant  and  Repub- 
lican, and  tolerably  successful  as  a  writer;  and  had  he  chosen  a  title 
really  descriptive  of  the  book,  his  readers  would  have  had  no  right  to 
complain.     The  most  interesting  portions  of  the  work  are  his  occasional 
remarks  upon  the  state  of  religion  in  Germany.     Of  Catholicity  he 
knows  nothing,  and  saw  nothing  during  his  travels,  beyond  the  "most 
superficial  externals.    A  visit  to  a  hospital  in  Prague  under  the  manage- 
ment of  some  religious  order  whom  he  calls  **  Merciful  Brethren,"  touches 
his  heart,  and  causes  him  to  exclaim  :  "  Verily,  there  is  many  a  good  side 
to  the  old  Romish  faith  ;"  a  high  Mass  in  the  venerable  Cathedral  of  St. 
Stephen  at  Vienna,  made  a  deep  impression  on  his  mind,  so  that,  "  as  I 
knelt  in  prayer  with  the  crowd,  I  could  not  but  believe  that  in  all  the 
superstition  around  me  there  were  many  who  worshipped  the  Invisible 
Being  as  purely  and  spiritually  as  I"— what  an  abyss  of  humility  ! — 
"  and  I  went  out  conscious  that  it  had  not  been  the  worse  for  me  being 
in  the  Catholic  Cathedral,  and  half  ashamed,  as  I  met  a  procession  with 
a  crucifix,  that  I  did  not  take  ofi'my  hat,  too,  with  the  crowd."  He  ac- 
knowledges, in  no  grudging  way,  that  "no  sect  of  Prussia  was  found 
to  show  such  self-sacrifice,  such  heroism,  amid  the  scenes  of  pestilence 
and  death  in  Upper  Silesia  in  1848,  as  the  Catholic  clergj',"  &c.     But 
unfortunately  he  seems  to  have  had  no  intercourse  with  Catholics,  either^ 
lay  or  clerical ;  the  only  apparent  exception  to  this  observation  being 
lady  in  Prague,  whom  he  calls  "a  person  of  real  thought  and  intelli- 
gence," but  who,  if  he  has  reported  her  conversation  aright,  was  cer- 
tainly no  real  Catholic.     The  following  is  his  general  summary  on  the 
state  of  religion  in  the  Protestant  parts  of  Germany.     "Religion  doea 
not  enter  as  a  great  element  into  society  in  Germany.     It  is  not  a  prin- 
ciple any  one  considers  in  estimating  the  influences  at  work  on  the 
people.     Few  appeal  to  it,  or  speak  of  it  as  one  of  the  great  facts  in| 
human  life.     Very  little  seems  to  be  sacrificed  for  its  great  objects. 
There  are  seldom  enterprises  under  it  for  the  poor  and  the  helpless  and 
the  unhappy.     Not  much   is  given  or  suffered   through   its   impulse. 
There  is  seldom  expressed  worship.     In  fact,  I  do  not  believe  there  is  a 
heathen  land  where  less  outward  ceremony  of  worship  is  seen.     The 
churches  are  half  empty  ;  and  one  beholds  the  painful  sight  of  a  church 
attended  only  by  women  and  children,  as  if  religion  was  a  thing  belong* 
ing  only  to  the  weaker  part  of  the  race.     It  is  not  that  the  men  one 
meets  are  bitterly  hostile  to  religious  truth,  or  abusive  towards  it ;  but  i] 
there  is  a  sort  o^  deadness  to  the  whole  subject  among  them,  an  indiffer-- 
ence,  or  a  kind  of  smiling,  quiet  incredulity,  which  comes  over  one  chill- 
ingly and  sadly." 

Tfie  Rise  and  Progress  of  the  English  Constitution,  by  E.  S.  Creasy, 


Short  Notices.  297 

M.A.,  Professor  of  History  in  University  College  (London,  Bentley), 
is  an  introduction  to,  and  commentary  on,  the  Magna  Charta,  Petition 
of  Rights,  and  Bill  of  Rights.  The  author  proceeds  on  the  principle 
that  a  constitution  is  a  growth,  not  a  manufacture  ;  and  therefore  intro- 
duces the  subject  by  an  analysis  of  the  ethnological  elements  of  our  po- 
pulation, and  a  description  of  their  peculiar  political  institutions.  The 
book  is  valuable  to  the  student  of  history,  but  is  disfigured  by  the  usual 
worship  of  all  that  is  Anglo-Saxon,— his  race,  his  polity,  and  his  re- 
ligion. 

Selections,  grave  and  gay ,  from  Writings,  published  and  iinpuhlishedy 
by  Thomas  de  Quincy  (the  Opium-Eater),  Autobiographic  Memoirs, 
vol.  ii.  (Edinburgh,  Hogg),  is  a  volume  of  interesting  gossip  and  spe- 
culation by  an  able  writer,  and  contains  anecdotes  and  reminiscences  of 
Coleridge,  Wordsworth,  and  Southey.  The  author  tells  a  story  to 
perfection. 

Castellamonte,  an  Autobiographical  Sketch,  illustrative  of  Italian 
Life  during  the  Insurrection  o/'lSSl  (2  vols.  London,  Waterton),  pur- 
ports to  be  the  production  of  Signor  Castellamonte,  who  describes  the 
part  he  played  at  Parmi  in  1831.  The  story,  barring  a  few  extrava- 
gances, is  told  in  a  very  interesting  manner,  and  with  such  naivete  as  to 
make  some  persons  suppose  it  to  be  a  satire.  The  aimless  and  incon  • 
stant  ebullitions  of  an  Italian  mob,  the  selfish  policy  of  revolutionary 
leaders,  the  author's  fanatical  hatred  of  priests,  his  infidelity,  love  of 
the  stiletto,  and  attachment  to  another  person's  wife,  which  he  makes 
to  be  the  prime  motive  of  his  conduct,  are  all  brought  out  as  mere  facts, 
worthy  of  neither  praise  nor  blame.  The  book  is  instructive  to  those 
who  will  receive  its  lesson. 

The  Alain  Family,  a  Tale  of  the  Norman  Coast;  from  the  French 
of  Alphonse  Karr  (London,  Nathaniel  Cooke;  Illustrated  Family 
Novelist),  is  a  very  clever  and  interesting  tale,  written  with  a  nice  dis- 
crimination of  character,  by  a  religious-minded  Catholic.  We  can 
heartily  recommend  it  to  those  who  are  readers  of  novels ;  in.deed,  many 
for  whom  the  ordinary  specimens  of  that  class  of  literature  have  no 
charms,  may  yet  read  this  volume  with  great  pleasure.  The  plot  of  the 
story  becomes  almost  too  complicated  towards  the  conclusion  ;  but  the 
special  excellence  of  the  book  lies,  as  we  have  said,  in  the  delicate  dis- 
crimination of  character ;  the  truthfulness,  yet  at  the  same  time,  the 
quiet  vein  of  humour  with  which  some  of  the  foiblesses  of  human  nature 
are  depicted,  is  admirable.  The  illustrations  are  spirited  and  good, 
excepting  the  scene  of  the  murder,  which,  we  think,  would  have  been 
better  omitted. 

Moral  Tales  and  Popular  Tales,  translated  from  the  French  of 
Madame  Guizot  (Routledge  and  Co.),  are  amusing  little  stories  ;  but  we 
cannot  think  that  they  will  ever  be  very  popular  in  England.  With  a 
few  beautiful  exceptions,  French  stories  have  about  them  a  something 
which  to  our  children  seems  dry  and  shallow,  and  wanting  in  imagina- 
tion and  freshness  of  feeling.  French  education  appears  to  be  fenced 
about  with  conventionalities  which  our  young  people  would  find  it  rather 
difficult  to  endure,  and  which  forms  a  character  with  which  they  do  not 
readily  sympathise.  There  is,  however,  a  good  deal  of  cleverness  in 
these  stories;  and  though  the  writer  is,  we  presume,  a  Protestant,  the 
allusions  to  Catholic  practices,  which  often  occur  in  them,  are  always 
respectful ;  though  the  morale  of  the  work  is  of  a  cold  and  somewhat 
haughty  character,  very  repugnant  to  Catholic  feeling. 


^8  Short  Notices, 

The  Last  Fruit  off  an  Old  Tree,  by  Walter  Savage  Landor  (London, 
Moxon).  His  Eminence  Cardinal  Wiseman,  in  one  of  his  essays,  paints 
a  "converted"  old  roue  giving  evidence  of  the  *' saving  change"  within 
him  by  distributing  tracts  at  cottage-doors.  He  might  have  added  a  pic- 
ture of  the  worn-out  literary  roue  "  patching  up  his  old  body  for  heaven" 
by  writing  a  book  against  Popery.  It  is  a  general  rule;  your  loose 
author,  when  he  gets  into  his  dotage,  embarks  in  the  controversy  against 
Catholics.  Two  instances  have  occurred  lately  ;  "  we  had  like  to  have 
had  our  noses  snapped  off  with  two  old  men  without  teeth."  Sheridan 
Knowles,  when  his  dramatic  fires  were  extinct,  wrote  a  book  against 
the  chair  of  St.  Peter;  Walter  Savage  Landor,  some  time  author  of 
Gehir,  a  poem  which  the  critics  of  the  day  characterised  as  trash  of  the 
worst  and  most  insane  description,  and  of  some  Latin  poems  which  Lord 
Byron  tells  us  vie  with  Martial  and  Catullus  in  obscenity,  does  the  usual 
Protestant  penance  in  ^'tho  Last  Fruit  off  an  old  Tree,"  by  the  most  stupid 
and  ignorant  abuse  of  the  Catholic  Church,  which,  according  to  him, 
preaches  perfidy,  incest,  brawling,  murder,  and  lying.  These  are  strong 
words;  yet  (p.  341)  he  appeals  to  every  man  who  has,  however  negli- 
gently or  malignantly,  red  (for  Mr.  Landor  thinks  he  has  a  special 
vocation  to  correct  our  spelling;  e.g.  iland,  therefor,  agen,  steddj'^,  man- 
full,  traveler,  relaxt,  &c.)  his  writings,  whether  his  education  or  habits 
of  life  could  ever  have  permitted  him  to  call  Bonaparte  a  blockhead  and 
coward,  Byron  a  rhymer  wholly  devoid  of  genius  or  wit,  Pitt  a  villain, 
Fox  a  scoundrel,  Canning  a  scamp,  and  so  on.  It  is  such,  he  says,  as 
no  gentleman  could  either  have  used  or  attributed  to  another.  We  sup- 
130se,  therefore,  that  the  rules  of  honour  do  not  apply,  when  ecclesiastics 
or  ecclesiastical  matters  are  spoken  of,  since  there  Mr.  Landor  does  not 
scruple  to  make  the  vilest  insinuations,  and  to  use  the  plainest  words. 
Clearly,  if  the  same  rules  apply  to  literary  as  to  theological  controversy, 
Mr.  Landor,  on  his  own  showing,  is  not  a  gentleman.  It  must  not  be 
supposed  that  the  first  intention  of  the  author  is  to  write  against  Popery. 
The  book  is  a  miscellaneous  collection  of  "imaginary  conversations," 
bits  of  criticism,  letters,  and  verses.  We  had  almost  forgotten  to  say 
that  the  author  exhibits  himself  as  a  rabid  Mazzinian. 

All  is  not  Gold  that  glitters,  by  Cousin  Alice  (Addey  and  Co.),  is 
an  American  tale  of  a  domestic  character,  turning  on  the  discovery  of 
Californian  gold.  It  is  quite  harmless,  and  rather  amusing,  but  with- 
out much  incident,  and  the  moral  may  be  sufficiently  gathered  from  the 
title. 

A  Brage  Beaker  with  the  Swedes,  or  Notes  from  the  North  in  IS5I2, 
by  W.  Blanchard  Jerrold  (London,  Cooke).    Mr.  Jerrold  enjoyed  him- 
self in  his  three  weeks'  winter  tour;  and  is  disjiosed  to  look  upon  the 
Swedish  chaiacter  with  much  more  complacency  than  Mr.  Laing,  whom 
be  accuses  of  untruth.     In  addition  to  the  sprightly  narrative,  he  has 
given  us  some  chapters  of  statistics,  which  he  has  copied  from  Swedis^ 
authorities  with  so  little  care  to  incorporate  them  with  his  own  mnttei 
that  he  continually  speaks  of"  our  iron,"  and  "our  national  prejudice, 
as  though  he  were  a  Swede.     Mr.  Jerrold  halts  between  two  religion- 
At  one  time  he  speaks  of  Luther  as  the  author  "  of  those  religious  trutl 
which  have  civilised  the  world;"  at  another  he  patronises  the  "reifr 
gion  of  the  heart,"  which  Leigh  Hunt  preaches,  and  which  consists 
**  noble  affections,  loving  all  things,  not  with  a  view  to  salvation 
therefore  as  a  matter   of  spiritual  economy,   but  for  the   irresisti 
pleasure  of  loving."     At  the  same  time,  he  appears  to  wish  to  be  f( 
to  Catholics  j  and  he  denounces  the  Swedish  persecutions  of  them 


Short  Notices.  299 

That,  however,  which  has  especially  amused  us  in  this  book,  is  Mr. 
Jerrold's  glorification  of  his  office.  We  always  feel  for  a  priest  when 
he  is  obliged  to  preach  about  the  powers  and  p^ivilege^5  of  the  priest- 
hood ;  though  in  this  case  duty  supports  him,  and  his  modesty  is  not 
shocked,  because  he  knows  that  what  he  is  magnifying  belongs  in  no 
way  to  his  own  natural  gifts,  but  simply  accrues  to  him  from  without. 
Not  so,  however,  when  we  hear  a  professed  literary  man  extolling  his 
pursuit  as  a  kind  of  divine  life,  which  makes  its  possessors  little  gods 
among  men,  and  confers  on  them  the  natural  and  inherent  right,  of 
governing  and  directing  their  fellow-creatures.  Mr.  Jerrold  thinks  that, 
in  comparison  to  the  literary  and  artistic  hero,  all  others  sink  into 
insigniticance.  Commerce,  certainly,  is  a  great  means  of  civilisation ; 
but  ''the  best  lessons  of  civilisation  are  not  to  be  gathered  from  the 
successful  merchant  in  his  saffron  (!)  coach,  but  rather  from  the  modest 
artist  painting  in  his  studio,"  &c.  "  An  impulse  as  universal  in  nature 
as  the  instinct  of  self-preservation  attaches  man  to  the  True;  which, 
whether  manifested  in  the  results  of  science,  the  graces  of  literature, 
or  the  realisation  of  art,  is  the  Beautiful.'^  ''Waken  the  people  to 
Beauty.  .  .  .  The  eye  which  lights  daily  upon  a  beautiful  object  drinks 
in  at  least  some  of  its  beauty,  and  dwells  ever  afterwards  with  pain 
upon  the  ugly  and  the  base."  Henceforth,  we  presume,  the  gifts  of  the 
Christian  Apostolate  are  to  be  looked  for  in  the  artists  of  the  Illustrated 
London  News,  and  in  the  authors  of  the  literary  graces  of  Punch. 

Thomas  a  Beckett,  and  other  Poems,  by  Patrick  Scott,  (London, 
Longmans).  English  poets  have  found  a  new  mine  in  the  lives  of  saints. 
Mr.  Kingsley  has  treated  us  to  a  parody  on  the  life  of  St.  Elizabeth  of 
Hungar}^,  called  "  the  Saint's  Tragedy ;"  and  here  we  have  an  offen- 
sive tissue  of  versified  untruths,  in  which  Mr.  Scott  obliges  us  with  his 
version  of  the  motives  and  merits  of  St.  Thomas,  and  the  other  actors 
in  the  great  ecclesiastical  struggle  of  that  day.  Henry  is  all  benevolence 
and  patriotism.  The  Cardinal  of  Pisa,  oblivious  of  the  maxim  Artis  est 
celare  artem,  parades  his  ambition  as  the  villain  in  a  melodrama  in  his 
"  asides"  to  the  audience,  and  is  the  clumsiest  diplomatist  that  ever  came 
from  the  country  of  Machiavelli.  St.  Thomas  hurries  towards  death 
from  impatience,  pride,  and  ambition  of  being  canonised.  The  monks 
in  St.  Paul's  chant  to  the  tune  of  Tate  and  Brady,  and  the  formula  of 
excommunication  is  "  by  the  merits  of  the  angelic  host."  The  English- 
man has  formed  his  own  notion  of  the  merely  political  ambition  of  the 
Roman  Catholic  Church ;  and  this  is  one  of  the  many  books  written  for 
the  extremely  honest  purpose  of  giving  an  appearance  of  historical  truth 
to  the  stupid  and  false  prejudice. 

Amongst  the  little  shilling  volumes  with  queer-looking  covers  which 
lie  on  the  book-stalls  of  our  railway-stations,  and  seem  to  promise  an 
hour's  entertainment  to  the  idle  traveller,  are  two  which  would  appear 
at  a  cursory  glance  to  be  brothers, — Boys  and  their  Rulers,  or  what  we 
do  at  School,  and  The  Adventures  of  Mr.  Verdant  Green,  an  Oxford 
Freshman  (London,  N.  Cooke,  Milford  House).  On  examination, 
however,  the  latter  will  be  found  to  be  very  superior  to  the  former  in 
every  way.  It  gives  a  very  disgraceful,  but  (making  all  due  allow- 
ances for  the  exaggerations  of  a  caricature)  we  suppose  a  tolerably  true 
picture  of  one  phase  of  Oxford  life.  Boys  and  their  Rulers,  on  the  con- 
trary, are  the  reminiscences  of  an  old  Blue-coat  boy,  i.e.  of  one  brought 
up  at  Christ's  Hospital,  London,  and  will  scarcely  be  interesting  to  any 
others.  The  book  does  not  deserve  the  general  title  which  its  author 
has  given  it.  He  seems  to  retain  affectionate  reminiscences  of  his 
school ;  but,  unless  both  its  text  and  its  illustrations  are  grossly  libellous, 

VOL.  I. — NEW  SERIES.  Y 


300  Short  Notices, 

we  heartily  congratulate  ourselves  that  .we  have  no  such  reminiscences 
of  our  own  boyhood,  and  anticipate  no  such  experiences  for  our  chil- 
dren. 

Among  the  recent  reprints,  translations,  new  editions,  &c.  we  have 
to  notice  a  very  improved  edition  of  the  Offices  of  Holy  Week  (Burns 
and  Lambert).  The  former  edition  began  with  the  Tenebras  of  Wednes- 
day evening,  and  did  not  include  the  Office  of  Palm  Sunday  and  the 
earlier  day  s  of  the  week :  these  have  now  been  added  ;  so  that  the  Offices 
are  here  for  the  first  time  "  printed  entire,  without  abbreviation  or 
reference,"  and  the  whole  is  pointed  for  chanting.  We  think  a  stiil 
further  improvement  would  have  been  to  print  the  Latin  as  well  as  the 
English  of  (at  least)  the  Passion,  on  those  days  on  which  it  is  usually 
sung.  The  second  and  concluding  volume  of  the  Life  of  St.  Franck  of 
Assist,  in  the  Oratorian  series  (Richardson),  and  one  of  the  most  inte- 
resting in  the  whole  collection.  A  translation  of  the  Sermon  preached 
in  the  Cathedral  of  Amiens  by  his  Eminence  Cardinal  Wiseman  (Richard- 
son), on  the  translation  of  the  relics  of  St.  Theodosia  from  Rome  to  that 
city.  The  able  article  on  The  Pi'otestant  Press  and  its  injustice  to  Ca- 
tholics (Richardson),  reprinted  from  the  "  Dublin  Review,"  No.  69. 
A  ''people's  edition"  of  the  Waverley  iVoi-€Zs  (Black),  printed,  of  course, 
in  rather  small  type  and  in  double  columns,  but  very  legible  and 
cheap.  Chaucer's  Canterbury  Tales,  with  notes  and  glossary ;  Spenser's 
Faerie  Queene ;  Southey's  Joan  of  Arc,  and  Minor  Poems;  and  the 
Poetical  Works  and  Pemains  of  Henry  Kirke  White, — all  furnished 
with  illustrations  by  Birket  Foster,  Corbould,  &c.  (Routledge  anc 
Co.)  Also  the  second  volume  of  Bell's  annotated  edition  of  the  Englisfc 
Poets  (J,  W.  Parker),  containing  The  Poetical  Works  of  the  Earl  o^ 
Surrey,  Lord  Vaux,  and  other  minor  poets  of  that  day.  Picturesqo 
Sketches  of  London,  past  and  present,  by  Thomas  Miller  (Nationa 
Illustrated  Library),  reprinted,  with  considerable  additions,  from  tht 
columns  of  the  Illustrated  London  News.  Mason's  Celebrated  Cldldret. 
of  all  Ages  and  Nations,  translated  by  Mrs.  L.  Burke  (Routledge 
Co.),  which  excludes  the  only  class  of  "  celebrated  children"  w 
whose  history  Catholic  parents  would  specially  wish  their  own  child 
to  be  familiar.  And  Miss  Martineau's  Playfellow  (Addey  and  C 
whom  we  found  a  most  clever,  agreeable,  and  fascinating  compan 
some  ten  or  twelve  years  ago,  and  with  whom  we  have  now  not  unv 
lingly  renewed  our  acquaintance.  We  cannot,  of  course,  acquiesce 
the  truth  of  her  picture  of  the  French  Revolution  in  The  Peasant  a 
the  Prince;  and  in  proportion  to  our  sense  of  its  falsehood,  is  our  regi 
at  the  talent  with  which  she  has  drawn  it.  There  is  much  also  in 
spirit  of  The  Crofton  Boys  with  which  we  have  no  sympathy. 
Settlers  at  Home,  however,  and  still  more  the  Feats  on  the  Fiord,  ai 
tales  which  rivet  the  attention,  without  in  any  way  doing  violence  eitbe 
to  our  sense  of  historical  truth  or  any  other  higher  feelings.  All  th( 
tales  are  written  in  a  style  which  is  at  once  simple,  yet  graceful  an( 
nervous ;  in  particular,  the  scenes  from  nature,  as  she  exhibits  hersel 
in  the  most  northern  parts  of  Norway,  are  most  beautifully  describee 
in  this  latter  volume ;  and  they  are  such  as  ordinary  English  reader 
are  not  commonly  acquainted  with. 


Short  Notices,  301 


rOREIG]N"  LITERATURE. 

Geschichte  der  Catholischen  Literature  aseriesofcritico-biographical 
sketches,  by  Dr.  J.  A.  Moritz,  Briihl  (Leipzig,  H.  Hiibner),  has  reached 
its  sixth  number,  or  480th  page ;  and  its  author  promises  to  complete 
it  in  two  volumes.  The  first  volume  will  contain  a  biographical  sketch 
of  all  the  principal  Catholic  authors  of  Germany;  the  second,  those 
of  Italy,  Spain,  Portugal,  France,  and  England.  The  plan  pursued  is 
that  of  combining  a  sketch  of  the  author's  lite  with  an  account  of  his 
works,  and  their  reception  by  the  public  during  his  lifetime.  The  num- 
bers that  have  hitherto  appeared  are  naturally  of  greater  interest  in 
Germany  than  in  this  country ;  nevertheless,  they  contain  an  amount 
of  information,  written  in  a  most  praiseworthy  Catholic  spirit,  that  will 
be  very  acceptable  to  all  lovers  of  general  knowledge.  There  are  some 
particularly  interesting  details  of  the  conversions  of  several  of  the  au- 
thors to  the  Catholic  Church,  with  extracts  from  their  private  corre- 
spondence, explaining  the  motives  of  their  conversion,  which  are  well 
worth  attention. 

Les  Anabaptist es :  Histoire  du  Lutheranisme,  de  I'Anabaptisme,  et 
du  regne  de  J.  Bockelsohn  a  Munster,  par  M.  le  Vicomte  M.  Th.  de 
Bussierre  (Paris,  Sagnier  et  Bray),  is  a  most  interesting  volume,  not 
only  as  containing  a  very  detailed  and  accurate  account  of  that  prime 
specimen  of  the  first-fruits  of  Protestantism,  the  excesses  of  John  of 
Leyden  and  his  companions  at  Munster  in  the  middle  of  the  sixteenth 
century,  but  still  more  for  the  insight  which  it  gives  us  into  Itfe  as  it 
was  in  those  days  of  change,  excitement,  and  fanaticism.  We  cannot 
at  this  moment  call  to  mind  any  work  containing  so  lifelike  a  picture 
of  the  first  introduction  and  gradual  progress  of"  the  new  opinions''  in 
a  particular  locality,  as  M.  de  Bussierre  has  here  given  us  with  reference 
to  the  unhappy  town  of  Munster.  We  should  like  to  see  a  dozen  such 
histories  of  different  towns  in  France,  Germany,  Holland,  and  our  own 
country.  A  multitude  of  partial  histories  and  local  anecdotes  of  this 
kind  would  give  us  a  true  and  lively  picture  of  the  Reformation,  of  the 
highest  possible  interest. 

Vie  de  Paul  Jean  Granger,  de  la  Compagnie  de  Jesus,  par  le  R.  P. 
J.  Dufour  d'Astafort,  de  la  meme  Compagnie,  is  an  edifying  memoir  ot 
a  young  Frenchman  who  resigned  very  brilliant  prospects  in  the  world, 
and  withstood  the  most  earnest  entreaties  of  his  parents,  in  order  to  join 
the  Society  of  Jesus.  He  died  a  few  years  ago  in  the  College  of  Bruge- 
lette,  when  he  was  only  twenty-six  years  of  age ;  having  given  an  example 
of  angelic  purity  and  fervent  devotion  worthy  of  the  society  which  has 
produced  a  St.  Stanislaus,  a  St.  Aloysius,  and  a  Venerable  John  Berch- 
mans.  As  an  appendix  to  the  work,  the  author  has  given  us  a  pane- 
gyric on  the  first-named  of  these  Saints,  which  was  delivered  by  the 
subject  of  his  memoir  at  Issenheim;  in  some  portions  of  which  we 
almost  seem  to  read  the  biography  of  the  young  preacher  himself. 


302 


HOLY  WATER. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Rambler. 

Sir, — Allow  me  to  add  the  valuable  testimony  of  the  glorious  St. 
Teresa  to  that -of  St.  Thomas  and  other  writers,  on  the  efficacy  of  "Holy 
AVater."  I  was  much  pleased  with  the  article  on  the  subject  in  your 
last  Number.  These  are  the  words  of  St.  Teresa:  "I  was  once  in  a 
certain  oratory,  when  the  devil  appeared  to  me  on  my  left  side,  in  an 
abominable  figure.  He  told  me  in  a  terrible  manner,  '  that  though  I 
had  escaped  his  hands,  yet  he  would  bring  me  back  again.'  I  was  ex- 
ceedingly terrified  ;  but  I  blessed  myself  as  well  as  I  could,  and  he  va- 
nished away  ;  but  presently  he  returned  again.  This  happened  to  me 
twice,  and  I  knew  not  what  to  do.  But  as  I  had  some  '  Holy  Water'  near 
me,  I  threw  it  towards  the  place  where  he  was,  and  he  never  returned 

more I  have  often  found  by  experience,  that  there  is  nothing 

from  which  the  devils  fly  more  quickly,  and  return  not  again,  than  from 
*Holy  Water.'  They  fly  from  the  sign  of  the  Cross  also  ;  but  return 
again  immediately.  Certainly  the  power  of  '  Holy  Water'  must  be  great : 
for  my  part,  my  soul  feels  a  particular  comfort  in  taking  it,  and  very 
generally  a  refreshment  and  interior  delight  which  I  cannot  express.  I 
consider  that  whatever  is  ordained  by  the  Church  is  of  much  impor- 
tance :  it  is  a  subject  of  great  delight  to  me  that  those  words  which  the 
Church  uses  when  she  blesses  the  water  should  be  so  powerful  in  making 
such  a  difference  between  blessed  and  unblessed  water."  (Life  of  St. 
Teresa,  English  translation,  pp.  274-275.) 

In  her  admirable  Letters  also,  the  Saint  again  dwells  on  the  effic 
of  Holy  Water. 

Thus  she  speaks,  in  writing  to  her  brother  Lorenzo  de  Cepedi 
"Keep  Holy  Water  by  you,  for  nothing  sooner  drives  the  devil  awaj 
This  has  often  helped  me.  Sometimes  he  has  not  only  terrified  me,  b^ 
tormented  me  greatly :  this,  however,  I  mention  in  confidence  betwt 
ourselves.  If  the  Holy  Water  should  not  touch  him,  he  will  not  depai 
sprinkle  it  therefore  all  about  the  place."  —Letter  No.  XXXII. y  Englii 
translation.) 

Sincerely  wishing  you  every  success  in  your  "  New  Series,"  and  th^ 
the  public  may  patronise  the  Rambler  as  it  deserves, 

I  am  yours,  &c. 


J.  Dalton. 


Bishop's  House,  Northampton,  Feb.  2d,  1854. 


CARDINAL  WISEMAN,  DR.  LINGARD,  AND  MR.  TIERNE^ 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Rambler. 
Sir,  —  My  attention  has  just  been  called  by  a  friend  to  the  last 
number  of  the  Hambler,  and  to  a  notice  which  it  contains  of  my  Mt 
moirofDr.Lingard.     For  whatever  general  approbation  the  review* 
has  been  good  enough  to  express,  I  am  thankful ;  but  there  are  twi 
points  on  which  he  has  spoken  in  terms  of  severe  and  certainly  unrai 
rited  censure ;  and  I  must  therefore  request  your  permission  to  offer 
few  words  in  reply.     If  the  questions  involved  in  the  strictures  of   * 


Correspondence,  303 

reviewer  were  merely  literary,  I  should  not  think  of  intruding  on  j^our 
notice.  But  they  are  of  higher  and  more  serious  import.  They  are 
calculated  to  produce  an  impression  injurious  both  to  me  and  to  Dr. 
Lingard  ;  and  for  this  reason  it  is  that  jf  feel  it  necessary  to  trouble  you 
with  my  present  defence.  I  shall  invert  the  order  in  which  the  re- 
viewer has  disposed  his  remarks. 

1.  The  reviewer  tells  us  that  Dr.  Lingard  (so  he  thinks)  "would 
not,  in  bis  maturest  age,  have  thanked  a  biographer  who  .would  record 
with  approbation  his  opinion  that  it  was  a  trifling  question  as  to  whe- 
ther a  Catholic  historian  should  say  that  ^  the  mind  of  St.  Thomas  (of 
Canterbury)  became  gradually  tinged  with  enthusiasm:'"  he  talks 
of  *'  the  somewhat  petulant  letter  (of  Dr.  Lingard)  in  which  this  pas- 
sage occurs  ;"  and  he  concludes  by  being  confident  that  Dr.  Lingard,  in 
his  later  life,  would  never  "  so  far  have  forgotten  himself  as  to  term  the 
question  a  mere  trifle,"  &c.  Now  first,  with  regard  to  the  "  approba- 
tion''^ with  which  I  am  said  to  have  recorded  the  historian's  "  opinion" 
concerning  St.  Thomas.  If  the  reader  will  turn  to  what  I  have  written 
in  the  Memoir,  he  will  find  that,  so  far  from  expressing  an  ^'  approba- 
tion^' (the  reviewer  prints  the  word  in  italics),  I  have  not  even  alluded 
either  to  the  truth  or  the  falsehood,  the  accuracy  or  the  inaccuracyj  of  the 
opinion  ;  that,  as  an  opinion,  I  have  never  spoken  of  it ;  but  that  I  have 
cited  the  passage  from  one  of  Dr.  Lingard's  letters,  for  the  mere  pur- 
pose of  illustrating  a  remarkable  feature  in  his  character  ;  namely,  his 
indifference  to  the  attacks  of  his  various  assailants  (p.  18).  How  the 
reviewer  could  have  perverted  this  into  an  "approbation  of  the  opi- 
nion," &c.,  I  know  not.  Possibly,  to  adopt  his  own  phrase,  he  was 
eager  to  "  have  a  fling"  at  Dr.  Lingard  ;  and  in  his  anxiety  to  accom- 
plish this  object,  mistook  the  meaning  of  what  he  had  undertaken  to 
criticise. 

But  Dr.  Lingard's  letter  is  "somewhat  petulant," — a  strange  accu- 
sation from  one  who  has  never  seen  the  letter  !  The  letter  extends  over 
more  than  six  pages.  I  have  cited  from  it  a  few  disjointed  sentences, 
just  suflScient  to  answer  my  immediate  purpose ;  and,  with  no  more 
than  these  fragments  before  him — fragments  neither  calculated  nor  in- 
tended to  convey  an  idea  of  the  tone  or  temper  of  the  letter — the  re- 
viewer at  once  declares  the  letter  to  be  "  petulant !"  It  is  evident,  as 
I  have  already  hinted,  that  the  real  object  of  the  reviewer  in  telling  us 
that  the  historian  would  not  in  his  later  life  have  "  so  far  forgotten 
himself,"  &c.,  is  not  so  much  to  "  hit"  at  me,  as  to  strike  at  Dr.  Lin- 
gard, and  to  charge  iiis  early  writings  with  an  offence  which  his  ma- 
turer  judgment  would  have  torbidden  him  to  repeat.  Nothing  is  more 
easy  than  to  get  up  a  case.  If  you  may  take  a  sentence  or  a  passage 
from  where  it  stands,  separate  it  from  all  that  would  modify  or  explain 
it,  add  a  comment  or  a  gloss  of  your  own,  throw  in  a  hint  about  "  a  Ca- 
tholic historian,"  and  talk  of  "  the  great  actions  of  a  canonised  saint" 
as  exposed  to  criticism,  you  may  without  much  difl^iculty  impress  an 
uninformed  reader  with  the  idea  that  the  "  Catholic  historian"  must 
strangely  "  have  forgotten  himself,"  to  make  light  of  such  matters. 
Whether,  however,  the  reader  who  shall  take  the  text  of  the  history 
without  the  comment  of  the  reviewer,  w^ill  arrive  at  the  same  conclusion, 
is  another  question.  /  think  that  he  will  not.  At  all  events,  I  am  sure 
that,  in  pronouncing  the  charges  as  preferred  against  him  at  Rome  to 
have  been  ^^  trifles,"  Dr.  Lingard  had  nothing  to  be  ashamed  of,  and 
certainly  never  saw  any  thing  which,  even  to  his  latest  hour,  he  would 
have  wished  to  recal.  They  were  "  trifles ;"  and  every  dispassionate 
and  reasonable  person  so  pronounced  them  at  the  time.     Archbishop 


304  Correspondence. 

Curtis  regarded  them  as  trifles,  and,  in  a  letter  which  the  reviewer  has 
not  ventured  to  notice,  declared  them  to  be  groundless.  Cardinal  Con- 
salvi  considered  them  trtjles,  and  refused  to  entertain  them.  The  Pro- 
paganda thought  them  trifles  ;  and  after  the  first  passing  inquiry  as  to 
their  nature  and  object,  threw  them  aside  ("  cushioned  them"  is  Dr. 
Gradwell's  expression).  Finally,  the  Pope  himself,  notwithstanding 
the  representations  of  "  Ventura  and  others,''  was  so  satisfied  of  their 
trifling  and  vexatious  character,  that  he  not  only  sought  to  honour  the 
historian  in  all  possible  ways,  but  actually  had  the  translation  of  the 
book  containing  the  obnoxious  passages  printed  at  his  own  press,  and 
himself  subscribed  for  two  hundred  copies  of  it  when  published.  I 
should  hope  that  these  authorities  will  satisfy  your  reviewer :  I  am  sure 
they  wiil  satisfy  those  Catholics  who  know  their  religion,  and  value  its 
principles;  and  with  that  conviction  I  can  rest  contented. 

2.  In  the  course  of  my  Memoir,  having  had  occasion  to  speak  of  the 
enlarged  edition  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  Church,  and  of  some  articles  written 
by  Dr.  Lingard  in  the  Dublin  Heview,  I  ventured  to  repeat  a  remark  not 
originally  my  own,  and  to  say  in  substance  that  these  productions 
were  more  effectual  in  the  Oxford  controversy  "  than  all  the  essays 
and  all  the  lucubrations  put  together  of  other  less  retiring  writers."  The 
reviewer,  who  is  not  indeed  very  grammatical,  knows  "  who  this  is 
meant  for;'^  for,  beyond  Dr.  Lingard  himself,  "there  was  but  one 
writer  who  took  a  prominent  part  in  the  controversy"  in  question  ;  and 
therefore  I  must  have  intended  to  "  have  a  fling  at  a  distinguished  con- 
troversialist, whose  rank  will  not  allow  him  to  return  such  hits."  The 
question  as  to  whether  there  were,  or  were  not,  othd*  writers  besides  the 
personage  alluded  to,  is  not  a  matter  of  much  consequence.  Cardinal 
Wiseman,  indeed,  says  there  icere  others,  and  speaks  somewhat  point- 
edly of  "  the  pamphlets  issued  perhaps  by  more  than  one  priest"  on  the 
subject  (Essays,  ii.  pref.  p.  vii.).  Be  this,  however,  as  it  may,  I  am 
quite  ready  to  acknowledge  that  if  by  the  ^'  distinguished  controver- 
sialist" is  meant  Cardinal  Wiseman,  his  Eminence  was  not  excluded 
from  the  category  of  writers  to  whom  my  observation  referred.  I  c^ 
allude  to  him,  as  well  as  to  others  ;  and  if  I  were  to  add  that  in  his  c 
I  had  a  special  reason  for  the  allusion,  I  should  state  no  more  than 
simple  fact.  On  this  subject  I  wish  to  speak  with  all  possible  respec 
nor  will  I  knowingly  say  a  word  that  is  not  called  {or  by  the  strictui 
of  the  reviewer.  But  let  any  one  read  the  two  prefaces,  prefixed 
spectively  to  the  first  and  second  volumes  of  the  collected  Essays 
Cardinal  Wiseman,  and  in  particular  that  passage  in  the  second  p^ 
face  (p.  vii.)  in  which  allusion  is  made  to  ''  the  most  learned  of 
historians,"  and  then  let  him  say,  not  whether  justice  is  there  donct 
Dr.  Lingard,  not  whether  his  labours  and  his  merits  are  simply  ignored 
but  whether  the  eifect — no  doubt  the  unintentional  efiect— of  what  i 
there  written,  is  not  to  represent  him  more  or  less  as  an  obstructionist 
and  to  contrast  his  cautious  and  "  friendly  warning"  with  the  bolde 
sagacity  of  the  writer  himself.  Into  the  real  nature  and  object  ofthi 
letter,  to  which  the  Cardinal  there  refers,  it  is  unnecessary  to  inquire 
We  are  many  of  us  old  enough  to  remember  the  bright  but  airy  visioi 
which  shone  upon  his  Eminence's  early  career,  the  prayers  for  the  con 
version  of  England  and  the  approaching  return  of  the  country  to  t*^ 
bosom  of  the  Catholic  Church ;  and  we  can  easily  conceive,  even  withe 
the  key  which  the  mention  of  ''  Laud  and  the  Nonconformists"  suj 
plies,  that  the  former  instructor  may  have  seen  much  whereon  to 
tion  the  then  youthful  "  enthusiast,"  without  intending  to  damp 
ardour,  or  to  deter  him  from  that  course  which  he  had  himself  been 


Correspondence,  305 

ong  and  so  successfully  pursuing.  But  let  this  pass.  It  must  be  evi- 
lent  that,  as  the  biographer  of  Dr.  Lingard,  I  was  called  on  to  repair 
he  injustice  which  Cardinal  Wiseman's  prefaces,  however  unintention- 
.lly,  had  inflicted  upon  him.  I  therefore  expressed  my  opinion  (not  a 
olitary  one  by  any  means)  of  the  respective  merits  of  Dr.  Lingard's 
>roductions,  and  those  of  the  other  writers  generally  upon  the  same 
abject.  But  I  was  careful  to  designate  no  individual.  While  dis- 
:harging  a  duty  to  the  departed,  I  had  no  wish  to  offer  offence  to  the 
iving ;  and  if,  in  my  endeavour  to  compress  what  I  had  to  say  into  the 
inallest  possible  compass,  added  to  the  haste  and  interruption  in  the 
nidst  of  which  the  Memoir  was  written,  any  expression  of  a  less  re- 
pectful  character  towards  any  one  escaped  my  pen,  I  can  only  say  that 
'.  regret  it.     It  certainly  was  not  intended. 

But  the  "  rank"  of  the  cardinal  "  will  not  allow  him  to  return  such 
lits."  It  is  true,  the  reviewer  is  not  so  sensitive  on  this  point  when, 
laving  described  the  dignity  of  the  priesthood  as  "  higher  than  that  of 
he  highest  earthly  princes,"  he  proceeds  to  assail  Mr.  Price,  a  priest, 
n  terms  of  not  very  measured  vituperation  (p.  90).  But  without  dueli- 
ng on  this  inconsistency,  I  may  say  at  once,  in  answer  to  his  dictum^ 
hat  I  deny  it,  both  as  a  principle  and  as  a  fact.  As  a  principle,  it  is 
ncorrect  to  say  that  an^'^  man,  be  his  rank  or  his  dignity  what  it  may, 
vho  descends 'into  the  fields  of  literature  to  display  his  prowess,  and  to 
'.hallenge  the  judgment  of  the  public,  is  to  be  exempted  from  the  re- 
narks,  or  placed  above  the  criticisms  of  his  readers.  He  who  is  not 
mwilling  to  accept  the  praises,  must  be  prepared  to  meet  the  censures 
)f  the  world.  The  privilege  to  commend  necessarily  involves  the  right 
:o  condemn  ;  and  he  who  appears  as  a  public  writer,  though  his  rank 
)e  regal,  as  in  King  James,  or  princely,  as  in  Cardinal  Wiseman,  must 
?xpect  to  be  treated  like  other  writers.  Nor  is  it  true,  as  a  fact,  that 
:he  *'  rank"  of  the  personage  in  question,  whether  as  bishop  or  as  car- 
linal,  has  ever  operated  in  the  manner  indicated  by  the  reviewer.  Mind, 
[  disclaim  all  intention  either  to  praise  or  blame  ;  but,  consider  him 
either  as  literary  reviewer,  or  as  public  lecturer;  take  his  writings 
'.hroughout,  from  his  controversy  with  Lady  Morgan  to  his  attack  upon 
Punch  and  the  newspapers  ;  follow  him  through  the  "  articles"  pub- 
lished "  under  the  shelter  of  editorial  responsibility,"  down  to  the  very 
prefaces  to  which  I  have  just  been  alluding,^and  I  think  it  will  be 
found  that  few  persons,  in  their  way,  have  been  more  ready  whether  for 
attack  or  for  defence.  I  repeat  it,  however, — I  am  not  expressing  any 
opinion  either  in  praise  or  censure  of  these  writings.  My  business  with 
them  at  present  is  simply  as  they  establish  a  fact ;  and  of  that  fact, 
though  opposed  to  the  notion  of  the  reviewer,  I  conceive  there  can  be 
no  doubt. 

I  now  take  my  leave  of  this  matter.  My  object,  in  what  I  have  said, 
has  been  simply  to  relieve  Dr.  Lingard  and  myself  from  the  insinua- 
tions (I  can  hardly  call  them  charges)  of  the  writer  in  your  journal. 
With  this  view  I  have  stated  my  opinions,  and  the  ground  of  them, 
fairly  and  frankly  ;  but  I  hope  tiiat  in  so  doing,  no  word  has  escaped 
me  that  can  even  savour  of  offence  to  any  one. 

I  am,  sir,  your  obedient  servant, 

M.  A.  TiERNEY. 

Arundel,  January  20,  1854. 


306  Correspondence. 

DR.  MADDEN  AND  HIS  REVIEWER. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Rambler. 

Sir,  —  May  I  request  an  early  insertion  in  the  Rambler  of  the 
following  explanation  with  regard  to  a  passage  in  a  critique  on  Dr. 
Madden's  Shrines  and  Sepulchres,  written  by  me,  and  which  appeared 
in  your  January  number.  I  regret  much  to  find  that  many  persons 
have  understood  me  in  the  passage  to  which  I  refer,  relative  to  the  life 
of  St.  Teresa  (Rambler,  Jan.  p.  79),  as  implying  a  doubt  of  Dr.  Mad- 
den's  orthodoxy,  and  casting  a  slur  on  the  soundness  of  his  faith  as  a 
Catholic.  Nothing  could  be  farther  from  my  intention.  Had  Dr.  Mad- 
den even  been  a  stranger  to  me,  I  should  not  have  ventured  to  impugn 
his  faith  ;  how  much  less  since  he  is  well  known  to  me  personally  as  a 
Catholic  as  sincere  and  zealous,  I  will  not  say  as  myself  merely,  but  as 
any  one  I  know.  On  any  point  of  literature,  on  any  matter  of  opi- 
nion. Dr.  Madden  and  I  may  differ;  in  one  thing  I  am  sure  we  never 
shall :  we  both  hold  as  of  faith  all  that  the  Catholic  Church  teaches, 
neither  more  nor  less.  What  I  did  mean  to  convey  was  simply  this: 
that  I  thought  Dr.  Madden  had  hastily  thrown  out  a  suggestion,  which 
would,  in  my  opinion,  lead  to  dangerous  consequences  ;  and  the  best 
argument  I  thought  I  could  use  with  him  as  a  Catholic,  was  to  point 
out  those  consequences,  knowing  that  he  would  shrink  from  them  as 
much  as  I  would. 

T  would  not  have  troubled  you  with  this  explanation,  were  it  not 
that  I  have  been  informed  that  the  passage  in  question  has  (no  doubt 
through  the  fault  of  the  writer)  been  much  misunderstood. 

In  justice  to  Dr.  Madden,  I  give  below  the  whole  of  the  original 
passage,  that  he  may  thus  explain  himself,  and  be  his  own  interpret 

I  remain,  &c. 
Feb.  8,  1854.  Your  Contributor. 

Shrines  and  Sepulchres. 

"  There  is  a  state  of  being,  which  we  almost  invariably  find  mentl^ 
made  of  in  the  lives  of  religious  persons,  eminently  contemplative,  si 
posed  to  have  had  remarkable  visions  or  glimpses  of  the  spiritual  worlJ 
a  state  of  occasional  dejection  and  dryness  of  spirit,  of  dereliction  of  sol 
comfort  inexpressibly  distressing  ;  a  temporary  privation  of  the  light] 
God,  a  sense  of  forsakenness,  of  inability  to  love,  and  impossibility  I 
being  loved. 

*'  This  is  a  very  strange  and  mysterious  state  of  being,  which  a  sneei 
will  not  explain,  nor  a  fool-born  jest  get  rid  of  as  a  fable  or  a  fraud. 

"  There  are  more  things  between  heaven  and  earth  than  are  dream 
of  in  our  philosophy.  There  are  many  marvels  that  are  known  by  tht 
name  of  miracles,  which  yet  may  come  within  the  ken  of  science,  wliei 
animal  magnetism  ceases  to  be  a  juggle,  and  becomes  an  adjunct  toou 
higher  studies."  (vol.  ii.  p.  559.) 


Levey,  Robson,  and  Franklyn,  Great  New  Stieet  and  Fetter  Lane. 


I 


%ijt  ilami)In% 


Part  IV. 


CONTENTS. 


1   Equivocation,  as  taught  by  St.  Alphonsus  Liguori      .     307 
Catholic  Hymnology  :  Life  of  Blessed  Jacopone  di  Todi   .     336 

Reviews. — The  Right  Hon.  Benjamin  Disraeli  :  a  Lite- 
rary and  Political  Biography     .....     344 

Our  Picture  in  the  Census.  Census  of  Great  Britain, 
1851  :  Religious  Worship  in  England  and  Wales. 
Second  Notice 356 

Dr.  Newman's  Lectures  on  the  Turks  :  Catholic 
Institutes.     Lectures  on  the  History  of  the  Turks  in 
its  relation  to  Christianity  .....     375 

Short  Notices: 

Theology,  Philosophy,  &c.    .....     385 

Miscellaneous  Literature    .....     387 

Foreign  Literature        ......     394 

Correspondence. — Church  Choirs  and   Choral   Schools. — 

Turks  and  Christians 396 


VOL.  I. — NEW  SERIES.  Z 


To  Correspondents. 

Juvenis.     Declined  with  thanks. 

Correspondents  who  require  answers  in  private  are  requested  to  send 
their  complete  address,  a  precaution  not  always  observed. 

We  cannot  undertake  to  return  rejected  communications. 

AH  comrnunications  must  be  postpaid.  Communications  respecting 
Advertisements  must  be  addressed  to  the  publishers,  Messrs.  Burns  and 
Lambert;  but  communications  intended  for  the  Editor  himself  should 
addressed  to  the  care  of  Mr.  Maker,  101  New  Street,  Birmingham. 


il 


THE    HAMBLER. 

YoL.  L  J^ew  Se)nes.  APRIL  1854.  Part  I Y. 


EQUIVOCATION,  AS  TAUGHT  BY  ST.  ALPHONSUS 
LIGUORI. 

The  premature  demise  of  the  British  Critic,  some  nine  or  ten 
years  ago,  was  the  establishment  of  the  fortunes  of  another 
periodical,  just  then  rising  from  inanity  to  vigorous  life.  The 
Christian  Remembrancer,  whose  antecedents  were  not  damaged 
by  any  of  those  uncompromising  declarations  which  had  be- 
stowed on  its  bolder  contemporary  a  celebrity  so  offensive  in 
the  eyes  of  Anglican  dignitaries,  forthwith  became  a  §ort  of 
organ  of  the  more  advanced  school  of  Romanising  Tractarians.. 
In  the  hands  of  a  clever  editor,  and  a  few  ready  and  not  over- 
scrupulous writers,  it  speedily  gained  a  respectable  position 
among  Dr.  Pusey's  adherents.  This  position  it  has,  we  believe,, 
maintained  to  the  present  time  with  a  very  fair  amount  of 
ability  ;  and,  we  dare  say,  has  succeeded  in  throwing  dust  into 
the  eyes  of  some  few  persons  whose  consciences  were  awaken- 
ing to  the  falsehoods  of  Puseyism. 

How  far  its  writers  are  sincere  in  their  professions,  we 
cannot  tell.  They  certainly  do  not  wear  the  mark  of  ingenu- 
ousness on  their  countenance.  Sincere  or  not,  however,  their 
position  is  a  false  one ;  their  very  existence  depends  upon  the 
maintenance  of  one  of  the  plainest  untruths  ever  maintained 
by  persons  of  reputation  in  the  world,  viz.  the  non-Protestant 
character  of  the  English  Establishment.  Hence  they  have  a 
double  game  to  play.  Like  a  fraudulent  bankrupt,  they  have 
(as  the  saying  is)  to  cook  their  accounts.  One  story  is  to  be 
told  to  one  subscriber,  and  another  to  another.  Each  number 
of  the  Review  must  furnish  articles,  not  merely  for  readers  of 
different  tastes,  but  of  different  creeds.  The  anti-Roman  Es- 
tablishmentarian  must  be  quelled  with  some  heavy  blow  from 
the  Fathers  or  the  non-Jurors ;  the  esthetic  and  ritual-loving 


308     Equivocation,  as  taught  by  St*  Alphonsus  Liguori, 

"Romaniser"  is  to  be  coaxed  into  quiet  with  the  luxuries  of 
vestments,  pictures,  and  rosaries  ;  bolder  thinkers  are  to  be 
lectured  on  the  sin  of  restlessness,  and  the  virtue  of  shutting 
one's  eyes  to  one's  danger  ;  while  the  timid  conscience  is  to  be 
scared  by  artful  stories  of  fresh  discoveries'  of  Roman  corrup- 
tions, not  of  the  raw-head  and  bloody-bones  species,  but  drawn 
from  the  reports  of  Puseyite  travellers,  or  from  misrepresen- 
tations of  the  works  of  Catholic  theologians. 

One  might  have  supposed  that  such  a  game  was  too  despe- 
rate to  succeed,  and  that  its  inevitable  consequence  must  have 
been  the  disgust  of  the  readers  of  so  hot-and-cold  a  periodical; 
as  we  have  knowMi  a  whole  family  confirmed  in  their  intentions 
of  becoming  Catholics  by  the  private  conversations  of  Dr.  Pusey, 
who  said  one  thing  to  one  of  them,  and  the  opposite  to  others. 
The  Anglican  stomach,  however,  if  we  may  judge  from  the 
diet  prepared  for  it,  has  a  marvellous  power  of  what  doctors 
call  assimilating  the  food,  of  whatever  quality,  that  is  presented 
to  its  acceptance.  It  can  digest  alike  a  book  of  rosaries  stolen 
from  the  Catholic  Church,  and  a  fierce  attack  on  the  morals  of 
a  Catholic  Saint  and  Theologian.  Without  the  faintest  twinge 
of  dyspepsia,  it  can  nourish  its  flow  of  true  Protestant  blood 
on  a  glowing  panegyric  of  a  French  Jesuit,  washed  down  witli 
a  stream  of  declamation  against  the  demoralising  principles  of 
Jesuit  theology.  It  can  thank  God  for  the  purity  of  the  su 
tenance  derived  from  the  morals  of  some  utterly  uninfluenti 
old  Anglican  divine,  while  it  eulogises  that  model  of  pio 
Englishmen  and  really  influential  nobleman.  Lord  Shaftesbur 
for  his  "  manful  sincerity"  in  breaking  a  solemn  agreemen 
when  he  thinks  it  ought  to  be  broken  "for  Gospel  purposes.l 
Such  is  the  fate  of  men  whose  principle  it  is  to  confound  t 
order  of  nature  with  the  order  of  grace,  and  who  pledge  then^ 
selves,  at  all  costs,  to  the  maintenance  not  of  the  Christian 
faith,  but  of  the  rights  of  the  Established  religion  of  England. 

The  last-published  number  of  the  Remembrancer  contains 
a  well-imagined  example  of  the  devices  adopted  to  terrify  the 
more  sensitive  consciences  of  the  Tractarian  school.     Imme- 
diately preceding  a  paper  on  the  French  pulpit,  in  which  the 
writer  tells  us  that  "  it  would  be  aiming  too  high"  for  Protes- 
tants "  to  have  di  Metropolitan  College  of  Or atorians  T'  we  have 
an  elaborate  essay  on  *'  Equivocation,"  as  it  is  called  in  ordi- 
nary language;   though   its  writer  prefers   the   somewhat  af- 
fected title,  "S.  Alfonso  de'  Liguori's  Theory  of  Truthfulness 
The  paper  is  cleverly  drawn  up,  and  displays  rather  more  ac 
quaintance  with  its  subject  tlian  is  usual  with  anti-Catholi 
writers.    Addressing  himself  to  the  magnanimous  and  righteou 
feelings  of  the  British  Lion,  by  an  occasional  falsification  o: 


Equivocation^  as  taught  hy  St,  Alphonsus  Liguori.     809 

fact  imperceptible  to  the  British  intellect,  the  Reviewer  gives 
a  turn  to  the  course  of  his  reasoning  wholly  at  variance  with 
the  existing  truth  ;  while  the  real  question,  which  lies  at  the 
root  of  the  whole  matter,  is  never  even  for  an  instant  alluded 
to.  The  British  Lion,  however,  when  not  engaged  in  roaring 
at  Papists  or  in  devouring  them,  is  too  well  pleased  to  find 
himself  appealed  to  as  a  personage  of  immaculate  "  truthful- 
ness," and  of  unimpeachable  morals  in  general,  to  be  very 
severe  in  testing  the  "truthfulness"  of  the  flattery  which  glides 
into  his  ears ;  and  we  have  little  doubt  that  he  will  finish  the 
perusal  of  the  article  before  us  with  a  placid  sensation  of  con- 
tentment ;  muttering  between  his  teeth,  as  he  proceeds  to  growl 
at  the  Russian  Bear  or  the  Austrian  Eagle,  "  Thank  God,  I 
am  an  Englishman !" 

Still,  there  are  Protestants  who  would  willingly  hear  what 
a  Catholic  has  to  say  in  reply  to  so  plausible  a  statement  as  is 
here  put  forth.  Every  reader  of  the  Christian  Remembrancer 
is  not  like  the  author  of  this  attack  on  one  of  the  most  cele- 
brated of  Catholic  Saints;  whose  clear  object  it  is  to  blacken 
the  name  of  Liguori  by  any  means  that  can  be  employed,  if  so 
he  may  deter  any  anxious  soul  from  submitting  to  the  hated 
sway  of  the  Pope.  Some,  for  mere  charity's  sake,  would  fain 
learn  that,  after  all,  we  Catholics  are  not  so  many  tricksters 
and  swindlers.  Some,  whose  dearest  friends  have  forsaken  all 
in  embracing  that  creed  which  is  here  held  up  to  scorn^  would 
rejoice  to  be  assured  that  those  whom  they  still  love,  though 
long  separated,  are  not  quite  the  victims  of  a  debased  morality, 
abhorrent  alike  to  the  "  honour  of  an  Englishman"  and  the 
principles  of  the  Gospel.  Others,  again,  simply  shrewd  and 
hard-headed  thinkers,  will  suspect  that  there  must  be  some 
flaw  in  so  grievous  a  charge  ;  and  that  either  the  accusations 
against  St.  Alphonsus  are  gross  exaggerations,  or  that  the 
Church  of  Rome  is  not  really  pledged  to  his  opinions,  or  that 
(if  humbug  were  rigorously  eschewed  by  Protestants  them- 
selves) there  is  some  undeniable  measure  of  truth  in  the  prin- 
ciples on  which  Liguori's  views  of  morals  are  based.  To  such 
as  these,  men  of  good  feeling  and  good  sense,  we  appeal, 
from  the  misrepresentations,  calumnies,  and  shallownesses  of 
such  writers  as  this  Reviewer;  calling  upon  them,  in  the  name 
of  that  truth  and  justice  which  we  are  charged  with  violating, 
to  beware  how  they  repose  any  trusts  in  the  ex-parte  state- 
ments of  a  class  of  controversialists,  who  neither  understand 
the  doctrines  of  the  Church  they  assail,  nor  the  books  they 
pretend  to  criticise ;  and  who  are  so  bent  upon  making  out  a 
case  against  Rome,  that  they  must  needs  strike  her  with 
weapons  which  would  avail  for  the  destruction  of  all  human 


310     Equivocation i  as  taught  by  St.  Alphonsus  Liguori, 

society  itself.  We  appeal  to  every  honest  Englishman,  who 
would  do  to  others  what  he  desires  they  should  do  to  him,  and 
who  would  scorn  either  to  accuse  his  neighbour  falsely,  or  to 
brand  him  with  guilt,  for  precisely  those  very  acts  which  he  is 
deliberately,  and  with  a  good  conscience,  comm.itting  in  his 
own  person  every  day  that  he  lives. 

In  the  first  place,  then,  we  have  to  assure  the  candid  reader, 
that  the  entire  accusation  here  brought  against  the  Church  of 
Rome  rests  upon  an  assertion  which  has  no  sufficient  foundation 
in  fact.     The  Reviewer  w^ould  have  his  readers  believe  that,  hi 
exposing  the  moral  theology  of  St.  Alphonsus  Liguori,  he  is 
really  displaying  the  iniquities  of  the  doctrines,  not  merely  of 
an  individual  and  an  influential  teacher,  but  of  the  Roman 
Churcli  herself !    That  a  person  totally  unacquainted  with  Ca- 
tholic theology,  with  the  language  of  official  documents,  and 
with  the  mode  in  which  those  documents  are  interpreted,  both 
by  those  who  receive  and  those  who  issue  them, — that  such 
a  person  should  attribute  a  greater  degree  of  authority  to  the 
writings  of  St.  Alphonsus   than    they  really   possess,   is  but 
natural ;  and  were  this  all,  we  could  have  little  fault  to  find 
with  any  Protestant  thus  mistaken.     But  the  case  is  wholly 
difterent  when  a  man  proceeds  to  instruct  his  fellow-religior, 
ists   with  dogmatic  decision,  and  claims  to  be  heard  as  or. 
thoroughly  master  of  the  entire  subject.     To  a  Catholic  it  i 
palpable  that  the  whole  question   is  totally  new  to  the  writ 
before  us.     Excited  by  the  popular  mention  of  Liguori's  nan 
he  has  ordered  his  Moral  Theology  and  Homo  ApostoUcus  frc 
his  booksellers,  read  away  at  a  rapid  pace,  marking  every  pj 
sage  that  he  thought  could  be  turned  into  a  weapon  of  assaul 
and  has  forthwith  worked  up  the  whole  into  an  article,  with( 
bestowing  an  hour's  pains  to  ascertcdn  whether  the  very  ^i 
step  in  his  argument  was  not  radically  an  error.     A  momenj 
thought  must  have  convinced  so  clever  a  p'jrson  that  ic  vv 
impossible   that   his   interpretation  of  the   sanction   given  b;" 
Rome  to  St.  Alphonsus'  writings  could  be  correct;  and  we  sa; 
that  he  was  bound  in  conscience  to  stay  his  eager  pen  till  h 
had  learnt  the  exact  truth. 

But  to  the  recklessness  of  a  retained  accuser  he  adds  th 
dishonourable  artifices  of  the  crafty  advocate.  He  prof  esse 
to  charge  Rome  with  immoral  teaching,  on  the  ground  that  sli 
has  sanctioned  the  books  of  St.  Alplionsus;  but  when  he  come 
to  details,  he  mixes  up  extracts  from  other  writers,  as  author! 
tative  exponents  of  Roman  morality,  to  which  no  shadow 
sanction  was  ever  given,  which  were  put  forth  from  a  sourc 
actually  condemned  by  the  Church,  or  even  rest  upon  no 
leged  authority  whatsoever.    Of  all  writers  in  the  world,  Pascf^ 


Equivocation,  as  taught  hy  St,  Alphonsus  Liguori,     311 

is  selected  as  the  expositor  of  Catholic  doctrine.  We  might 
as  reasonably  iasten  upon  the  Record  nevvspaper  as  the  expo- 
sitor ot"  the  views  of  Dr.  Pusey.  An  anonymous  treatise  on 
Equivocation,  some  three  hundred  years  old,  but  whose  exist- 
ence was  only  lately  discovered,  is  freely  quoted,  by  way  of 
proof  of  what  the  Catholic  Church  now  authoritatively  instructs 
her  children  to  believe  as  the  undoubted  word  of  God ;  merely 
because  certain  phrases  used  by  the  unknown  casuist  sound 
uglier  in  the  British  ear  than  any  thing  to  be  extracted  from 
the  works  of  the  Saint.  So,  too,  a  story  about  St.  Francis  is 
■detailed,  confessedly  "  not  found  in  Liguori ;"  but  (says  our 
truth-seeking  Reviewer)  "accepted  by  Roman  controversialists 
as  a  faithful  exponent  of  their  views,  and  justified  as  such." 
What,  we  may  well  ask,  has  all  this  to  do  with  St.  Alphonsus 
Liguori,  or  with  the  casuistry  authorised  by  the  Church  of 
Rome  ?  Or  what  right  has  Garnet  to  appear  in  any  such  con- 
nection ?  The  artifice  is  transparent.  The  object  is  to  confer 
an  appearance  of  learning  on  the  writer's  dissertations,  and  to 
convince  the  hesitating  Protestant  reader  that  Catholic  theo- 
logians are  one  and  all  a  band  of  deceivers, — traitors  to  God, 
and  the  foes  of  man.  To  these  incidental  illustrations  of  the 
wickedness  of  Catholic  casuistry  we  shall  therefore  allude  no 
further.  Whether  the  authors  of  the  propositions  here  attri- 
buted to  them  were  right  or  wrong,  neither  we  nor  any  other 
Catholics  are  bound  by  them.  The  principles,  moreover,  on 
whicli  they  must  be  judged  are  identical  with  those  on  which 
St.  Alphonsus  bases  his  opinions,  and  in  handling  the  latter 
they  will  be  in  reality  fully  discussed. 

We  have  said,  then,  that  the  argument  of  the  Rememhrancer 
against  Rome,  drawn  from  certain  documents  sanctioning  the 
theology  of  St.  Alphonsus,  is  radically  baseless.  The  B.eviewer 
has  entirely  misunderstood  the  nature  of  the  sanction  thus 
conferred.  If  he  had  inquired  of  any  competent  Catholic 
theologian,  he  would  have  learnt  this  the  moment  he  put  the 
question.  He  need  not  have  committed  the  unpardonable 
enormity  of  visiting  a  Catholic  prelate  or  priest  in  his  ow*n 
proper  person.  He  need  not  have  said  one  word  about  his 
being  a  Protestant  when  he  made  the  inquiry.  He  might 
have  adopted  the  common  Puseyite  "equivocation,"  and  called 
himself  a  "Catholic."  A  brief  letter  to  the  following  effect 
would  have  speedily  settled  his  doubts: — "  Will  you  be  good 
enough  to  inform  me  whether  the  sanction  given  by  Rome  to 
the  writings  of  Liguori  is  meant  to  imply  that  no  Roman 
Catholic  is  at  liberty  to  maintain  an  opposite  opinion  on  any 
of  the  details  of  morals  found  in  his  books?"    We  will  venture 


S12    Equivocation,  as  taught  hy  St.  Alplionsus  Liguori, 

to  say,  that  an  emphatic  "No;  it  does  not  mean  this,"  would 
have  come  to  him  by  return  of  post. 

What,  then,  does  this  sanction  imply?  It  implies  that 
there  is  nothing  in  them  which  a  theologian  cannot  hold  with 
a  safe  conscience  ;  nothing  which  is  against  the  faith  and  sound 
morals, — contra  Jidem  et  honos  mores.  It  does  not  mean  that, 
on  those  doctrinal  subjects  and  those  details  of  morals  on  which 
the  Church  herself  has  pronounced  no  decision^  a  Catholic  may 
not,  with  an  equally  safe  conscience,  differ  from  St.  Alphonsus.* 
A  Catholic  is  bound  to  believe  every  doctrine  which  the  Church 
has  authoritatively  proposed  to  his  belief.  Beyond  this,  lie  is 
generally  free  to  form  his  own  opinion;  provided  only  he 
does  not  consciously  believe  any  thing  inconsistent  with  those 
articles  of  faith  which  the  Church  has  set  forth.  In  morals 
it  is  the  same  as  with  doctrine.  Certain  truths,  both  general 
and  in  detail,  no  Catholic  can  deny,  without  virtually  re- 
nouncing his  title  to  be  a  son  of  the  Church.  Beyond  these, 
he  is  bound  only  to  believe  and  act  according  to  his  own  judg- 
ment, exercised  in  humility  and  prudence,  and  with  a  sole 
desire  to  learn  and  to  do  what  is  right.  St.  Alphonsus  has  re- 
ceived no  exclusive  privilege  to  expound  the  infallible  truth 
on  those  many  questions  on  which  the  Church  has  not  spoken. 


I 

31 

i 


•  The  decree  of  approbation  distinctly  declares  that  those  who  follow  th^ 
opinions  of  other  approved  authors  are  not  to  he  blamed.     The  questions  an 
their  replies  stand  as  follows  : 

"  Eminentissimo  ac  Reverendissimo  D.D.  Cardinal!  Poenitentiario  Majori 
Eminentissimo  : 

Ludovicus  Franciscus  Augustus,  Cardinalis  de  Rohan-Chabot,  Archiepiscop 
Vesontionensis  doctrinse  sapientiam  et  unitatem  fovere  nititur  apud  omnes  dioece 
sis  suae  qui  curam  gerunt  animorum,  quorum  nonnullis  impugnantibus  ac  pn 
hibentibus  Theologiam  Moralem  beati  Alphonsi  Marise  Ti  Ligorio,  tanquam  laxa 
nimis,  periculosam  saluti,  et  sanae  morali  contrai'iam,  Sacrse  Pcenitentiariae  oculu 
requirit,  ac  ipsi  unius  Theologise  Professoris  sequentia  dubia  proponit  solvenda 
1.  Utrum  sacrae  Theologiae  Professor  opiniones,  quas  in  sua  Theologia  Morali  pro 
iitetur  beatus  Alphonsus  a  Ligorio,  sequi  tuto  possit  ac  profiteri  ?  2.  An  sit  in 
quietandus  Confessarius  qui  omnes  beati  Alphonsi  a  Ligorio  sequitur  opiniones 
a  praxi  Sacri  Poenitentiae  Tribunalis,  hac  sola  ratione  quod  a  sancta  Sede  Apos- 
tolica  nihil  in  operibus  illius  censura  dignum  repertum  fuerit  ?  Confessarius 
de  quo  in  dubio  non  legit  opera  beati  Doctoris  nisi  ad  cognoscendum  accurate 
ejus  doctrinam,  non  perpendens  momenta  rationesve  quibus  variae  nituntur 
opiniones ;  sed  existimat  se  tuto  agere  eo  ipso  quod  doctrinam  quae  nihil  censuril 
dignum  continet,  prudenter  judicare  queat  sanam  esse,  tutam,  nee  ullateniis  sano 
titati  Evangelicae  contrariam. 

DECISIO. 

Sacra  Poenitentiaria,  perpensis  expositis,  Reverendissimo  in  Christo  Patri, 
S.R.E.  Cardinali  Archiepiscopo  Vesontionensi  respondendum  censuit :  Ad  primur 
quaesitura  :  Affirmative,  quin  tamen  inde  reprehendendi  censeantur,  qui  opinione^ 
ab  alits  probatis  auctoribus  traditas  sequuntur.  Ad  secundum  qu^esitum  :  Nega- 
tive, kabita  ratione  mentis  sanctae  Sedis  circa  approbationem  scriptorem  servoruna 
Dei  ad  effectum  Canonizationis.  Datum  Romae,  in  sacra  Poenitentiaria,  die  5  Julii)|j 
J83I.    A.  F.  De  Retz,  S.  P.  Regens.  F.  Fricca,  S.  P.  Secretarius." 


Equivocation^  as  taught  hy  St,  Alphonsus  Liguori.     313 

but  on  which  as  a  theologian  he  was  compelled  to  write  in  full 
details.  The  sanction  of  Rome  acquits  him  of  any,  the  slight- 
est, shade  of  error  in  any  thing  he  has  written  as  a  Catholic;  but 
it  does  not  place  him  above  every  other  theologian,  dead  or 
alive,  whose  opinions  differ  from  his  on  what  (to  use  a  popular 
phrase)  are  *'  open  questions."  Such  an  interpretation  of  the 
sanction  is  itself  its  own  refutation.  There  would  be  an  end 
at  once  of  all  theological  writing,  except  for  the  purpose  of 
maintaining  St.  Alphonsus'  infallibiHty  against  all  comers. 

All  this  is  plain  enough  to  a  Catholic ;  though  to  the  Pro- 
testant, the  whole  of  whose  creed  is  the  produce  of  his  own 
thoughts  and  criticism,  it  is  perhaps  not  so  instantly  clear. 
Yet  surely  a  candid  and  intelligent  Protestant  will  at  least 
understand  us,  with  a  little  thought.  Take  a  single  doctrine, 
for  example,  as  an  illustration  of  the  difference  between  the 
Catholic  and  the  Protestant  conditions  of  mind  on  such  sub- 
jects : — Every  Catholic  holds,  and  many  Protestants  hold  the 
same,  that  the  Second  Person  in  the  Blessed  Trinity  became 
Incarnate,  and  that  Incarnate,  He  redeemed  mankind.  In 
connection  with  this  doctrine,  some  of  the  Fathers  held,  and 
some  modern  theologians  hold,  that  even  if  Adam  and  his 
posterity  had  not  sinned,  the  Eternal  Son  would  still  have 
become  Incarnate,  though  not  to  suffer.  Now,  such  Catholics- 
as  hold  both  of  these  doctrines,  nevertheless  hold  them  on 
totally  different  grounds ;  they  hold  the  former  because  the 
Church  proposes  it  to  their  faith,  the  latter  as  a  deduction 
from  Scripture,  or  from  grounds  of  theological  reason  formed 
hy  their  own  private  intellects.  The  Protestant  believer,  on 
the  contrary,  would  accept  both  doctrines  on  precisely  the 
same  ground.  He  might  be  more  or  less  certain  that  they 
were  true  doctrines  ;  but  the  reason  whg  he  held  them  would 
be,  that  he  considered  them  to  be  contained  in  the  Bible,  or, 
as  a  matter  of  history,  to  have  been  held  by  the  primitive 
Christians.  Hence,  being  without  personal  experience  as  to 
these  two  distinct  grounds  for  religious  belief,  the  Protestant 
reader  may  be  at  first  sight  bewildered  when  he  is  told  that  a 
good  Catholic  can  accept  the  Papal  decree  declaring  that  St. 
Alphonsus  taught  nothing  against  the  faith  and  good  morals, 
at  the  same  time  that  he  feels  himself  at  liberty  to  differ  from 
St.  Alphonsus  on  (perhaps)  a  large  number  of  the  details  of 
his  writings.  He  is  led  astray  by  his  want  of  acquaintance 
with  our  ordinary  theological  language,  and  with  the  primary 
elements  of  our  religious  ideas.  He  is  accustomed  to  use  the 
words  faith,  true,  certainty,  and  the  like,  in  senses  different 
from  those  in  which  Catholic  theology  uses  them.  A  Catholic 
has  *'  faith"  in  those  doctrines  of  revelation  which  the  Church 


314     E,quicocation,  as  taught  by  St.  Alphonsus  Liguori, 

authoritatively  teaches  him  to  be  the  word  of  God.  On 
whatever  other  or  kindred  points  he  may  have  opinions,  and 
however  certain  he  may  personally  feel  of  the  accuracy  of  the 
reasoning  on  \vhich  he  has  formed  them,  he  never  applies  the 
term  "  laith"  to  that  act  of  the  mind  by  which  he  holds  them 
as  true.  They  are  true  to  him,  perhaps  with  the  highesi 
degree  of  certainty  to  which  probable  reasoning  can  attam 
but  still  they  are  matters  of  private  opinion  after  all. 

Hence,  the  sanction  conferred  on  the  books  of  St.  Alphon 
sus  is  attended  with  no  practical  puzzle  to  a  Catholic.  It  doet 
not  occur  to  him  to  take  it  as  a  judicial  decision  in  favour  o 
the  innumerable  propositions  enunciated  by  that  theologian 
It  mereiy  assures  him,  that  if  he  personally  is  disposed  t( 
accept  any  of  St.  Alphonsus'  opinions  as  just  opinions,  on  St 
Alphonsus'  authority,  out  of  respect  for  his  judgment  as  i 
great  Saint  or  theologian,  he  may  do  so  "  with  a  safe  con 
science"  {tuta  conscientia),  in  the  confidence  that  in  nothin* 
has  St.  Alphonsus  contradicted  the  laws  of  morality  or  th( 
decisions  of  the  Catholic  Church. 

We  refuse,   then,   in  limine,   to    be    held   responsible    a 
Catholics  for  any  of  the  private  opinions    expressed  ^by  St 
Alphonsus.     We  may  be  very  good  Catholics,  and  yet  dissen 
from  a   vast  number  of  the  propositions   which  he   has  pu 
forth.     We  are   bound  by  what  the  Church  teaches,  and  b^ 
nothing  more.     At  the  same  time,  let  it  not  be  supposed  tha 
we  individually  are  hereby  throwing  St.  Alphonsus  overboard 
as  the  saying  is,  because  he  has  taught  certain  things  uhi 
look  ugly  in  the  eyes  of  English  Protestants.     We  parti 
larly  beg  that  it  may  be  understood  that  we  are  merely  stati 
the  facts  of  the  case.      We  should  regard  it  as  in  the  high 
degree  impertinent,  either  to  publish  or  to  hold  any  thing  t 
couid  be  termed  an  opinion   on  such  a  multitude  of  deta: 
many  of  them  involving  points  of  the  most  complex  difhcu 
It  may  comport  with  the  ideas  of  anti-Catholic  reviewers,  vv' 
know  about  as  much  of  moral  science  as  an  attorney's  clerk  i 
the  first  month  of  his  articleship  knows  of  legal  science,  l- 
•announce  decisions  on  the  most  subtle  and  complicated  ques 
lions  of  human  duty  ;  but  lar  from  us  be  any  such  folly.     Eo 
all  we  know,  every  opinion  uttered  by  St.  Alphonsus  may  b' 
really  true,  in  tiie  profoundest  sense  of  the  word  ;  or  many  o 
them  n:ay  be  erroneous.     We  only  refuse  to  be  held  respoj 
sible  for  any  thing  which  the   Church  has   not   taught 
And  if  we  now  proceed  to  vindicate   the  principles  of  mo 
which  the  writer  before  us  has  attacked,  we  do  it  not  men 
as  defending  St.  Alphonsus,  dear  as  his  reputation  is  to 
•  but  in  the  hope  of  clearing  away  some  little  of  the  cloud 


Equivocation,  as  taught  hy  St,  Alphonsus  Liguori,     315 

misconception  which  confuses  the  judgment  of  honourable 
men  amang  Protestants,  when  they  criticise  the  books  and  the 
acts  of  Catholics.  The  article  in  the  Christian  Remembrancer 
is  a  fair  sample  of  the  better  class  of  attacks  thus  levelled 
-against  us  ;  and  it  embodies  all,  or  nearly  all,  of  the  common 
notions  of  the  Protestant  observer.  We  are  therefore  con- 
tent to  notice  its  remarks  rather  more  in  detail  than  would  be 
strictly  necessary  if  we  treated  it  on  its  own  merits  alone. 
Our  only  difficulty  is  to  ^compress  what  we  must  needs  say 
into  such  a  compass  as  our  space  permits.  Not  merely  a 
treatise,  but  treatises,  would  be  necessary  for  the  full  exposi- 
tion of  the  subjects  involved.  Any  difficulty,  accordingly, 
which  the  non-Catholic  reader  may  experience  in  compre- 
hending what  we  say,  we  must  beg  him  to  impute,  not  to  the 
inherently  inexplicable  nature  of  Catholic  morality,  but  to 
the  difficulty  of  unfolding  its  principles  in  the  compass  of  a 
few  pages. 

Our  first  duty  is  to  warn  Protestants  of  candour  and 
honesty  against  such  insinuations  as  are  conveyed  in  the 
paragraph  in  which  the  Rememhrancer  opens  his  case.  After 
proving,  as  he  supposes,  that  Liguori  is  Rome's  *' latest  autho- 
ritative exponent  of  her  moral  system;"  the  word  "  system" 
meaning  with  this  writer  not  merely  the  principles  of  morals, 
but  every  detailed  proposition  contained  in  Liguori's  writings; 
the  Reviewer  insinuates  tliat  there  exist  in  Lis^uori's  books  far 
worse  things  than  his  teaching  on  equivocation,  telling  his 
readers  that  "the  laws  of  decency"  forbid  him  from  exhi- 
biting their  "  most  revolting  features."  From  such  words 
only  one  conclusion  can  be  drawn  by  Protestants.  They 
must  believe — and  the  Reviewer  nmst  have  foreseen  it — that 
St.  Alphonsus  teaches  a  scandalously  lax  morality  in  connec- 
tion with  the  sins  forbidden  by  the  sixth  (among  Protestants 
the  seventh)  commandment.  That  this  writer  considers  that 
no  detailed  instructions  ought  to  be  given  by  moralists  on  sins 
of  this  nature  is  incredible  :  the  Editor  of  the  Rememhrancer ^ 
and  the  writers  of  his  school,  are  not  quite  such  shallow- 
brained  impostors  as  to  imagine  that  human  passions  are  to  be 
allowed  to  revel  uncontrolled  in  the  mire  of  any  one  sin, 
merely  because  that  sin  is  of  a  peculiarly  revolting  nature. 
The  Remembrancer's  accusation  is  virtually  to  the  effect  that 
St.  Alphonsus  sanctions  a  degree  of  license  which  is  reprobated 
by  Protestants  ;  a  statement  than  which  none  more  palpably 
and  wickedly  false  was  ever  uttered  by  malignant  controver- 
sialist. Of  course,  we  cannot  enter  into  details.  The  subject 
should  never  be  touched  on  in  our  pages,  but  that  insinua- 
tions and  charges  must  be  denied,  for  the  sake  of  truth  and 


316    Equivocation,  as  taught  by  St.  Jlplionsus  Liguori. 

purity  themselves.  If  this  writer  had  the  cause  of  truth  and 
purity  at  heart,  why  did  he  not  tell  his  readers  what  St. 
Alphojisus  himself  says  on  the  subject?  Why  did  he  not 
quote  what  could  be  quoted  ?  Why  did  he  hint  a  vile  sug- 
gestion, when  a  sentence  or  two  from  the  object  of  his  slan- 
ders would  have  dispelled  all  such  unholy  thoughts  ?  Why 
did  he  not  tell  the  alarmed  Protestant  reader,  that  St. 
Alphonsus  prefaces  his  discussions  on  these  distressing  sub- 
jects with  a  burst  of  sorrow  that  he  should  be  obliged  to 
discuss  them  at  all ;  entreating  the  pardon  of  the  chaste  reader 
for  the  bare  mention  of  topics  whose  very  name  is  defiling ; 
lamenting  the  impossibility  of  clothing  his  advice  in  something 
still  more  obscure  than  the  technicalities  of  a  dead  language ; 
warning  all  men  against  reading  what  he  has  written  as  a 
matter  of  curiosity  ;  and  bidding  them  redouble  their  prayers 
for  grace  to  preserve  their  own  innocency  ?  Such  was  the 
spirit  in  which  St.  Alphonsus  addressed  himself  to  his  painful 
duties.  What,  then,  would  he  have  thought  of  those  infamous 
writers  who,  under  the  guise  of  a  zeal  for  holiness,  publish  to 
the  world  in  newspapers  and  periodicals  discussions  which 
the  Saint  himself  would  never  approach  without  trembling, 
and  without  commending  himself  to  the  protection  of  God  ? 

Another  unpardonable    misrepresentation  on    the  part  of 
the  Remembrancer  occurs  in  its  pretended  explanation  of  tl 
Catholic  doctrine   on  the  subject  of  mortal  and  venial  sini 
The  writer's  object  is  transparent.     He  wishes  his  readers 
believe  that  Catholic  moralists  teach  that  when  a  sin  is  venij 
it  is  really  no  sin  at  all ;  and  that  we  abstain  from  venial  sii 
through  a  sort  of  spiritual  epicurism,  in  order  to  enjoy  a  pel 
petual  fervour,  and  for  no  other  reason  whatever.     Here  ai 
the  very  words : 

"  A  mortal  sin  puts  a  man  out  of  the  grace  of  God,  a  venii 
sin  does  not,  but  only  diminishes  the  man's  fervour  ;  and  is 
light  a  thing  that  it  need  never  be  confessed.     What  sins  ai 
mortal,  and  what  venial,  is  left  to  the  decision  of  the  casuists." 

Now,  if  language  has  any  meaning,  does  not  this  mean  dis- 
tinctly that  a  venial  sin  is  considered  by  Catholics  as  in  no 
sense  really  a  sin,  a  thing  forbidden  by  God,  a  thing  which  is 
an  offence  against  His  Majesty  ?  Mark  the  craft  of  the  last 
clause  in  the  quotation ;  it  is  so  light  a  thing  that  it  need  never 
be  confessed.  Undoubtedly  it  need  not  be  confessed,  if  by 
**  need  not"  is  meant  that  there  is  no  absolute  obligation  to 
confess  it  to  a  priest.  The  Church  teaches  that  Almighty 
God  makes  it  obligatory  on  all  to  confess  to  a  priest  all  those 
sins  which  are  of  such  a  character  as  to  exclude  the  soul  from 
grace,  as  the  condition  on  which  absolution  is  to  be  pro- 


Equivocatio7i,  as  taught  hij  St.  Alphonsus  Liguori,    317 

nounced  and  the  lost  blessings  restored.  By  this  means  the 
benefits  of  the  atonement  of  Jesus  Christ  are  conveyed  to 
the  penitent  sinner.  And  this  is  all  that  is  required  in  the 
way  of  sacramental  confession  for  the  pardon  of  sin,  provided 
it  be  accompanied  with  genuine  sorrow  and  purpose  of  amend- 
ment. But  to  infer  from  this  that  those  sins  which  are  not 
actually  and  instantly  destructive  of  the  spiritual  life  itself, 
are  treated  by  the  Church  as  trifles,  as  not  sins  in  any  just 
sense  of  the  word,  as  what  the  world  calls  infirmities  or  pec- 
cadilloes, is  absurd.  Every  sin,  venial  as  well  as  mortal,  is  to 
be  confessed  from  the  heart,  and  with  a  true  contrition,  to 
Almighty  God;  though,  in  the  case  of  venial  sins,  God  does 
not  require  that  the  confession  shall  be  made  to  a  priest  also. 
The  soul  of  every  sincere  Catholic  is  incessantly  occupied  in 
the  confession  of  the  innumerable  varieties  of  sin,  from  the 
worst  to  the  lightest  and  most  transitory,  from  which  no  man 
without  a  special  privilege  is  wholly  free.  And,  moreover, 
though  we  are  bound,  under  the  heaviest  of  penalties,  to  con- 
fess only  mortal  sins  to  a  priest,  in  practice  every  Catholic 
above  the  most  miserably  lukewarm  and  heedless,  does  thus 
confess  his  venial  as  well  as  his  mortal  sins.  There  is  not  a 
spiritual  writer  in  existence  who  does  not  inculcate  the  prac- 
tice. Various  motives  are  assigned  for  the  practice,  which  we 
need  not  here  detail,  except  these  two  weighty  reasons,  viz. 
that  a  carelessness  about  venial  sins  tends  directly  to  the 
commission  of  those  which  are  mortal ;  and  that  sins  which, 
viewed  as  a  question  of  theological  science,  are  in  themselves 
venial,  in  certain  cases  become  mortal  in  the  individuals  who 
commit  them.  None  insist  on  this  more  urgently  than  St. 
Alphonsus  himself.  And  we  entreat  our  Protestant  fellow- 
countrymen  to  bear  all  this  in  mind,  and  not  to  be  led  away 
by  the  vulgar  error  which  treats  the  Catholic  term  ''venial" 
as  equivalent  to  the  popular  term  "  trifling,"  venial  sins  being 
really  of  various  degrees  of  enormity. 

The  writer  before  us  further  adopts  that  other  wide-spread 
error,  which  treats  the  Catholic  division  of  sins  into  mortal 
and  venial,  as  an  arbitrary  distinction,  the  invention  of  an  un- 
spiritual  casuistry.  He  tells  us  that  it  is  "  totally  impossible 
that  the  arbitrary  division  of  sins  into  mortal  and  venial  can 
be  maintained."  What  will  not  party  spirit  lead  a  man  to 
say  ?  Is  this  the  sentiment  of  a  disciple  of  the  Oxford  theo- 
logy, or  is  it  one  of  the  silly  platitudes  in  which  the  shallowest 
of  "evangelicals"  betray  the  inconsistencies  of  their  creed? 
We  appeal  from  both  alike  to  the  common  sense  of  every 
Enghshman  who  does  not  hold  the  notion  that  all  men  are 
exactly  alike  in  the  sight  of  God,  and  will  all  be  saved  when 


318     Equivocaiiony  as  taught  by  St.  Alplionsus  Liguori, 

they  die.  We  ask  every  honest  mind  whether  there  are  not 
differences  between  the  enormity  of  the  many  sins  of  which 
man  is  guilty  towards  In's  God  ?  Is  it  not  possible  that  a  man 
should  do  that  which  is  forbidden  by  the  divine  law,  and  yet 
not  be  guilty  of  a  deliberate  renunciation  of  the  sovereignty  of 
God,  as  his  Maker  and  his  King?  Is  a  ''  white  lie"  as  bad  in 
the  sight  of  God  as  deliberate  perjury  ?  Is  a  blow  given  in 
a  moment  of  passion  equally  horrible  with  murder  ?  Is  a 
person  who  swindles  a  poor  man  of  his  all  no  worse  than  an- 
other who,  in  a  moment  of  sudden  temptation,  carries  off  a 
little  ornament  from  the  house  of  a  nobleman  of  gigantic 
wealth,  only  because  the  actual  money  value  of  the  loss  to 
both  parties  is  the  same  ?  So  far  from  the  distinction  between 
mortal  and  venial  sins  being  arbitrary,  it  cannot  be  denied 
without  violating  the  first  principles  of  morals  and  the  dictates 
of  every  human  conscience.  Every  body  holds  it,  every  body 
professes  it,  and  every  body  acts  upon  it. 

And,  further,  unless  we  hold  that  all  men  are  equally  in 
the  favour  of  God,  the  effect  of  some  sins  on  a  person's  spi- 
ritual prospects  must  be  different  from  that  of  other  sins  of  v. 
difi'erent  degree  of  guilt.     Does  deliberate  murder  put  a  m-u: 
out  of  the  favour  of  God,  so  long  as  it  is  unrepented  of,  or 
does  it  not?     If  there  is  a  heaven  and  a  hell,  will  the  delibe- 
rate and  unrepentant  murderer  go  to  heaven  ?  and  will  a  m 
be  sent  to  hell  for  stealing  a  pin  ?     No  doubt  it  is  possih 
theoretically,  to  steal  a  pin  with  such  an  aggravation  of  wick 
motives  as  to  render  the  act  tantamount  to  a  voluntary  d 
fiance  of  the  majesty  of  God ;  as  it  was  for  eating  an  appi 
that  Adam  lost  Paradise.      But,  as  the  world  goes,  is  pi 
stealing,  or  equivocating  in  trifling  affairs,  an  offence  whi 
God  has  told  us  He  will  inevitably  punish   with  hell-fir 
Are  these  offences  regarded  by  the  law  of  God  as  entaili 
the  same  consequences  as  murder  and  adultery  ?     If  not,  th 
the  one  class  are  venial  sins,  and  the  other  class  ar^  mort 
One  class  of  sins  can  be  committed  by  a  man  who  is  neverthe- 
less a  good  Christian,  and  not  a  reprobate  ;  the  other  wou'ci 
convert  a  saint  into  an  outcast. 

We  repeat,  then,  that  the  Catholic  distinction  between 
mortal  and  venial  sins  is  absolutely  essential  to  the  guidance 
of  the  soul  in  the  law  of  God.  There  can  be  no  Christian 
morals  at  all  without  it.  The  denial  of  the  distinction  is  equi 
valent  either  to  the  blackest  antinomianism,  or  to  the  dcni 
of  the  existence  of  a  future  state  of  rewards  and  punishmen 
And  it  is  the  daily  torment  of  every  tender  Protestant  conscien 
that  it  has  no  intelligible  guide  in  such  things.  It  is  its  mise 
that,  when  it  seeks  to  know  itself  and  its  sins,  it  has  no  t 


ui- 

I 


Equivocation,  as  taught  hy  St,  Alplionsus  Liguori,     319 

vhereby  to  ascertain  what  is  the  nature  of  the  guilt  of  its  per- 
)etiial  transgressions  of  the  divine  law.  Vainly  it  strives  for 
-ome  light,  to  show  it  whether  those  faults  into  which  it  finds 
;liat  it  is  practically  impossible  not  to  fall,  are  of  so  heinous  a 
character  as  to  exclude  it  from  the  favour  of  that  God  whose 
aw  it  seeks  to  know.  Were  there  no  other  proof  that  Pro- 
:estantism,  in  all  its  forms,  is  not  the  Gospel  of  Jesus  Christ, 
:his  test  alone  would  suffice  to  set  aside  its  claims. 

That  on  certain  matters  of  detail  there  exist  different  opi- 
nions among  Catholic  theologians,  is  no  proof  that  it  is  futile 
to  attempt  to  show  that  one  transgression  of  the  divine  law  is 
mortal,  and  that  another  is  not.  Is  the  science  of  human  laws 
worthless,  and  no  practical  guide  at  all,  because  on  certain 
ibstruse  questions  legal  casuists  are  not  all  entirely  agreed  ? 
Are  we  to  fly  in  the  face  of  the  rules  which  God  has  given  to 
guide  us,  because  there  are  certain  complications  of  human 

I  action  in  which  it  is  not  easy  to  ascertain  the  precise  scientific 
definition  oF  the  complications  in  question  ?  If  it  has  pleased 
the  Divine  wisdom  to  create  man  as  a  complex  being,  with  a 
soul  and  a  body,  each  of  them  subject  to  the  action  of  a  vast 
variety  of  motives  and  feelings;  and,  moreover,  to  place  him 
in  the  midst  of  a  society  towards  the  members  of  which  his 
relationship  is  of  tlie  most  multiform  character,  what  right 
have  we  to  confound  the  inherent  distinctions  between  right 

■and  wrong  in  human  acts,  because  it  is  not  always  easy  to  say 
whether  a  certain  action  is  included  in  a  certain  precept,  or  to 
fix  speculatively  the  exact  amount  of  guilt  which  every  pos- 
sible act  of  disobedience  implies  ? 

The  assertion  made  by  the  Christian  Remembrancer,  to  the 
effect  that  there  exists  practically  any  difficulty  for  Catholics 
in  ascertaining  what  is  their  duty,  and  what  are  their  sins  in 
the  overwhelming  majority  of  instances,  is  simply  a  fabrication. 
The  writer  dips  into  the  books  of  one  or  two  moralists,  totally 
in  the  dark  as  to  the  principles  assumed,  and  the  rules  by 
which  their  scientific  propositions  are  applied  in  practice  ;  and, 
as  might  be  expected,  takes  up  an  idea  which  is  contradicted 
by  the  experience  of  every  person  who  is  a  Catholic.  He  in- 
forms his  readers  that  tvhen  the  agreement  of  moralists  might 
he  of  use,  it  never  exists.  If  such  is  our  difficulty,  may  we 
ask  him  to  inform  us  how  Protestants  ascertain  what  things 
are  right  and  what  are  wrong,  when  the  Bible  says  nothing  as 
to  the  particular  details  of  the.  case  in  hand?  Take  such  a 
case  of  conscience  as  the  mode  of  observing  the  Lord's  day. 
Is  it  a  mortal  sin  in  a  member  of  the  Anglican  Church  not  to 
go  to  church,  when  he  is  not  absolutely  hindered  by  necessity, 
every  Sunday  ?     If  it  is  so,  is  he  bound  to  go  once,  twice,  or 


320     Equivocation^  as  taught  hy  St.  Alphonsus  Liguori, 

three  times  ?    If  it  is  a  venial  sin,  may  a  man  never  go,  and  yet 
remain  in  the  grace  of  God  ?     If  not,  where  is  the  line  to  be 
drawn  ?     Or  is  such  absence  from  public  worship  a  sin  at  all  ? 
How  ought  a  good  Anglican  Christian  to  pass  the  remainder 
of  the  Lord's  day  ?     May  he  read  the  newspaper  ?     May  he 
read  a  novel  ?     May  he  give  a  dinner-party  ?     May  he  play  at 
cards  ?     May  his  children  play  with  their  toys,  and  dance  an 
romp  about  the  house  ?    If  they  may  do  this,  and  their  parent 
may  not  do  any  thing  of  the  kind,  at  what  age  does  the  pro- 
hibidon  commence  its  operation  ?     May  a  good  Anglican  hire 
a  cab  to  take  him  to  church,  when  he  knows  that  by  so  doing 
he  will  be  morally  instrumental  in  preventing  the  cabman's 
going  to  church  himself?     How  much  of  the  day  ought  he  tc 
pass  in  private  prayer  and  spiritual  exercises  ?     Is  it  right  tc 
have  rail  way- trains  running  on  Sundays  ?     If  it  is  wrong  tc 
transact  secular  business  on  Sundays,  is  it  right  for  a  persor 
in  London  to   write   to  a  country  correspondent  a  business 
letter  on  a  Saturday,  thereby  inducing  him  to  occupy  himsell 
with  secular  aiFairs  on  the  subsequent  Sunday?    If  it  is  wrong 
to  read  a  novel  on  a  Sunday,  is  it  right  to  mention  a  novel  ir 
conversation  ?     And  if  so,  why  so  ?     On  all  these,  and  innu- 
merable other  practical  details  on  this  one  subject  alone,  there 
exists  the  utmost  diversity  of  opinion  among  Protestants.    Wil 
the  Remembrancer  show  us  how  the  truth  is  to  be  ascertained 
Are  all  these  acts  perfectly  immaterial  in  themselves  ?     Or  i 
it  impossible  to  test  them  by  any  one  standard  ?     Or  mayi 
good  Anglican  treat  the  whole  subject  with  scorn,  becai 
there  exists  such  a  boundless  diversity  of  opinion  respecting] 
among  the  members  of  the  Anglican  communion  ?     Yet  tl 
touches  only  one  of  the  ten   commandments,  and   that  oi 
moreover,  which  deals  with  a  positive  command.     When  tl 
Protestant  can  show  us  his  own  code  of  morals,  perfect 
its  comprehensiveness,  unimpeachable  in  its  deductions,   ai 
embracing  every  detail  of  human  action,  it  will  be  time 
him  to  say  that  we  Catholics  have  no  practical  code,  becaus( 
our  doctors  are  not  agreed  in  all  the  minutiae  of  scientific 
distinction. 

One  more  remark  is  necessary,  before  we  proceed  to  th( 
subject  of  equivocation  itself;  and  we  here  request  the  parti 
cular  attention  of  the  thoughtful  reader,  because  it  is  essentia 
to  the  right  understanding  of  all  Catholic  moralists.  Wil 
Catholic  writers,  it  is  to  be  observed,  moral  theology  is 
science.  It  is  not  a  collection  of  essays,  sermons,  or  spiriti 
reflections.  It  is  the  philosophical  exposition  of  the  duti^ 
comprehended  in  the  laws  which  Almighty  God  has  given 


Equivocation^  as  taught  hy  St,  AlpJionsus  Liguori.    S2\ 

his  creatures,  and  especially  to  Christians,  to  obey.  Now  these 
laws  are  various ;  and  the  human  passions,  desires,  and  feelings 
which  they  are  designed  to  control,  are  also  various,  as,  too, 
are  the  virtues  which  it  is  man's  duty  to  cultivate.  The  action 
of  the  human  mind  is  not  like  the  development  of  an  algebraic 
or  geometrical  axiom,  which  stands  rigorously  alone,  or  is  by 
its  very  nature  implied  in,  or  associated  with,  other  elementary 
axioms.  If,  for  instance,  I  once  get  hold  of  the  true  idea  of 
a  circle,  I  may  deduce  from  that  idea  an  endless  variety  of 
other  geometrical  truths  by  a  series  of  simple  syllogisms,  each 
necessarily  springing  from  its  predecessor,  without  any  neces- 
sity for  modifying  my  deductions  by  the  introduction  of  other 
truths  of  a  counteracting  nature  at  any  stage  of  the  process. 
This  is  what  is  called  mathematical  reasoning  ;  and  in  its  ap- 
plication, we  have  only  to  be  sure  of  our  original  premisses,  and 
of  the  logical  correctness  of  our  subsequent  syllogisms,  to  be 
equally  sure  of  the  conclusions  at  which  we  may  arrive  at  the 
most  distant  stages  of  our  demonstrations. 

But  in  morals  the  case  is  essentially  different.  Justice  is 
one  thing,  mercy  is  another,  truth  is  a  third,  humility  is  a 
fourth.  The  sin  of  murder  is  distinct  from  the  sin  of  theft; 
the  sin  of  lust  is  distinct  from  the  sin  of  pride.  And  whereas 
in  mathematics  the  properties  of  a  circle  cannot  interfere  with 
the  properties  of  a  triangle  ;  in  morals,  the  obligations  of 
justice  may  interfere  with  the  dictates  of  mercy  ;  a  man's  duty 
to  his  right-hand  neighbour  may  interfere  with  his  duty  to  his 
left-hand  neighbour.  An  act  may  be  perfectly  innocent  when 
viewed  in  connection  with  one  particular  law  of  morals,  while 
in  connection  with  some  other  law  it  may  become  either  highly 
undesirable  or  absolutely  sinful. 

Catholic  moralists,  accordingly,  treat  human  actions  under 
this  double  aspect;  so  that  any  opinion  passed  upon  them  from 
a  partial  knowledge  of  their  system  is  certain  to  be  erroneous* 
They  treat  of  the  virtues  in  combination  as  well  as  singly. 
They  take  one  of  the  laws  of  God  or  of  the  Church,  and  test 
its  appHcability  to  that  endless  variety  of  human  actions  which 
seem  to  come  under  its  operation.  Some  of  these  they  decide 
to  be  violations  of  the  precept  before  them,  either  in  a  mortal 
or  a  venial  degree ;  and  others  they  decide  to  be  free  from  all 
charge  of  sin  on  this  particular  ground.  But  they  do  not 
therefore  say  that  those  things  which  they  thus  permit  may 
not  be  forbidden  hy  some  other  law.  Take  the  case  of  some 
horrible  enormity,  committed  by  a  man  in  such  a  state  of 
drunkenness  that  he  was  not  master  of  his  actions,  and  did  not 
know  what  he  was  about.  Suppose  he  murders  another  man  ; 
is  he  really  guilty  of  murder  in  the  same  sense  as  if  he  killed 

VOL.    I. — NEW  SERIES.  A  A 


S22    Equivocation^  as  taitght  hy  St,  Alphonsus  Liguori, 

his  victim  with  deliberation  when  in  his  sober  senses  ?  He  is 
guilty  of  drunkenness,  but  drunkenness  is  a  different  sin  from 
murder ;  and  when  writing  only  on  the  sin  of  murder,  a  theo- 
logian might  justly  say  that  such  a  man  was  guiltless  of  mur- 
der. And  what  could  be  more  scandalously  dishonourable  in 
a  controversialist^  than  to  assert  that  because  a  moralist  main- 
tained that  such  a  person  was  not  technically  guilty  of  the  one 
sin  of  murder,  he  was  therefore  acquitted  as  not  guilty  of  any 
thing  more  flagrant  than  mere  intoxication  ?  But  supposing 
that  a  man  got  drunk  deliberately,  or  deliberately  joined  a 
company  in  which  he  would  be  in  imminent  danger  of  getting 
drunk,  knowing  when  he  did  so,  that  it  was  likely  that  when 
drunk  he  would  commit  murder;  then,  in  this  case,  he  is 
guilty  of  that  deliberately  reckless  defiance  of  the  Divine  law 
in  general,  which  is  a  mortal  sin  of  the  deepest  dye.  It  is  a 
monstrous  perversion  of  truth  to  take  a  few  fragmentary  pas- 
sages from  a  scientific  treatise,  consisting  of  mere  abstract 
definitions  of  certain  virtues  or  certain  sins,  and  to  fasten  upon 
them  a  practical  meaning  which  their  author  would  have  been 
the  last  to  give  to  any  person  who  might  consult  him  as  to  the 
right  and  the  wrong  of  actual  conduct.  Every  Catholic  knows 
that  the  rules  and  scientific  distinctions  of  theological  writings 
are  to  be  interpreted /or  use  by  those  who  are  masters  of  the 
whole  system  of  Catholic  doctrine  and  practice.  We  do  in 
religion  precisely  what  every  rational  man  does  in  law  and 
medicine.  None  but  a  quack  doctor  or  a  silly  invalid  fanci( 
that  all  human  diseases  are  to  be  cured  by  a  knowledge 
merely  one  or  two  parts  of  the  human  frame,  or  of  the  natui 
of  one  or  two  medicines.  Medical  books  need  a  competei 
and  educated  physician  for  their  application  to  particul 
cases  of  disease.  In  law,  who  but  a  fool  would  peril  his  lii 
or  property  on  his  personal  study  of  one  or  two  legal  treatise? 
rather  than  seek  guidance  from  a  competent  lawyer?  An 
so,  books  of  moral  theology  presuppose  the  interpretation 
a  living  theologian. 

From  this  rapid  survey  of  the  general  character  of  theolo- 
gical science,  we  now  proceed  to  the  specific  accusation  brought 
by  the  Rememhrancer  against  St.  Alphonsus,  on  the  subject  ol 
equivocation.  He  has  chosen  his  topic  well,  in  order  to  divert 
attention  from  the  real  controversy  between  the  Church  and 
Protestantism.  Shallow  minds  are  peculiarly  impressible  by 
the  species  of  declamation  here  launched  against  Rome  and 
her  doctors.  "  Romish  deceit"  is  one  of  the  most  popular  o\ 
cries,  easily  raised,  and  easily  buttressed  up  with  a  few  start 
ling  quotations ;  and  when  the  Rememhrancer  stumbled  upo; 


I 


Equivocation,  as  taught  hy  St,  Alphonsus  Liguori,     323 

hese  passages  in  Liguori,  he  doubtless  looked  upon  them  as 
godsend,  to  enable  him,  the  Puseyite,  to  give  scientific 
ccuracy  and  unanswerable  weight  to  the  vague  and  airy  de- 
lunciations  of  the  more  vulgar  school  of  anti-Catholic  orators, 
L/et  us  see  what  his  accusations  are  fairly  worth. 

In  thus  endeavouring  to  put  the  question  in  a  clear  and 
ntelligible  light,  we  shall  at  the  same  time  abstain  from  any 
niiiute  examination  of  the  various  propositions  maintained  by 
>t.  Alphonsus,  and  here  assailed  as  more  or  less  abominable. 
No  such  examination  is  in  the  least  degree  called  for,  in  order 
o  settle  the  difficulty,  such  as  it  is,  between  Catholics  and 
Protestants.  The  point  in  dispute  is  not  simply  whether  this 
)r  that  case  of  equivocation  is  justifiable,  or  whether,  if  de- 
ception be  ever  allowable,  this  or  that  form  of  deceiving  is  an 
llowable  mode  of  practising  it.  If  equivocation  is  wrong  in 
[self,  of  course  Liguori's  instances  are  every  one  of  them 
vrong;  and  their  enumeration  adds  only  to  the  rhetorical 
nipressiveness,  and  not  to  tlie  logical  force,  of  the  accusation 
igainst  him.  And  on  the  other  hand,  if  the  principle  of  the 
awfulness  of  equivocation  be  once  admitted,  the  whole  matter 
s  settled  against  our  Protestant  opponents.  Whether  or  not 
jvery  opinion  of  St.  Alphonsus  can  be  maintained,  as  justi- 
iable  on  the  principles  thus  conceded,  is  a  matter  of  no 
noment  between  us.  The  principles  being  conceded,  the 
:harges  of  our  assailants  fall  to  the  ground. 

The  doctrine,  then,  alike  of  St.  Alphonsus  and  of  all  Ca- 
tholic moralists,  is,  that  equivocation  is  in  certain  cases  lawful 
for  a  Christian ;  nay,  it  may  sometimes  be  his  duty.* 

The  law  of  truth  does  not  forbid  us  to  use  certain  words,  or 
to  practise  certain  gestures,  with  a  view  to  conceal  the  truth; 
but  it  does  forbid  us  to  say  or  do  that  which  necessarily  con- 
veys an  idea  directly  contradictory  to  the  real  truth.  I  have 
no  right  to  make  a  man  believe  that  a  white  object  is  certainly 
not  white,  though  I  have  a  perfect  right  to  conceal  from  him 
tvhether  or  not  it  is  white.  The  latter  is  an  equivocation ; 
the  former  would  be  a  lie.  In  the  latter  case  I  throw  the 
burden  ol finding  out  the  truth  upon  him;  in  the  former  I 
make  it  impossible  for  him  to  ascertain  it  by  any  means. -j-  In 
particular  cases  it  may  not  always  be  easy  to  say  whether  such 
and  such  a  statement  is  an  equivocation  or  a  lie ;  just  as  in 
innumerable   other  instances  moral  science  has  its   difficult 

*  We  use  the  word  in  the  sense  in  which  it  is  used  by  CathoUc  theologians, 
who  give  it  strictly  its  etymological  meaning — (Equi-vocatio.  The  popular  Eng- 
lish sense  of  the  word  implies  some  species  of  guilty  or  sinful  quibbling,  neces- 
sarily of  a  more  or  less  dishonourable  character. 

f  We  recommend  to  the  candid  reader's  attention  an  able  Essay  on  the  present 
subject  by  Dr.  Murray  of  Maynooth,  in  the  4th  vol.  of  his  Annual  Miscellayiy. 


324f    Equivocation,  as  taught  hy  St,  Alphonsus  Liguori, 

subtleties  to  analyse.  The  teaching  of  St.  Alphonsus  an( 
of  the  great  body  of  moralists  is,  that  if  we  lie,  we  sin;  if  w^ 
equivocate  for  some  just  reason,  we  do  not ;  i,  e,  of  course 
unless  the  equivocation  involves  the  breach  of  some  othe 
law  of  morals.     Or,  a  little  more  in  detail,  it  amounts  to  this 

1.  We  are  never  allowed  to  tell  a  lie. 

2.  We  are  not  always  obliged  to  tell  every  body  the  whoh 
truth. 

3.  W^hen  we  have  a  sufficient  reason  for  not  telling  it,  w< 
may  use  equivocal  words,  which  conceal  the  truth  but  do  no 
deny  it. 

4.  But  if  the  equivocalness  is  not  ordinarily  felt  and  known 
so  that  the  second  meaning  exists  only  in  my  mind,  pure  men 
talis,  I  cannot  use  it.* 

Nor  is  the  question  affected  by  the  addition  of  an  oatl 
to  the  equivocation.  If  an  equivocation  is  perfectly  innocent 
it  is  ridiculous  to  suppose  that  the  confirming  it  with  an  oat 
converts  it  into  a  perjury,  or  any  species  of  sin,  so  far  as  truth 
telling  is  concerned  :  though,  possibly,  the  addition  of  an  oat 
may  be  an  act  of  irreverence,  or  the  cause  of  scandal.  If  it  i 
perfectly  lawful  for  a  servant  to  say,  "  Not  at  home,"  to  ;  > 
visitor,  when  his  master  is  at  home,  it  is  perfectly  lawful  fo  i 
him  to  confirm  the  statement  with  an  oath,  so  far  as  truthful 
ness  is  concerned ;  though  such  conduct  might  be  most  un 
justifiable  on  the  ground  of  want  of  sufficient  reason,  profane 
ness,  and  disedification  to  others. 

The  proof  of  the  lawfulness  of  equivocation  is  found  in  tfl 
undeniable  truth,  that  man  has  other  duties  towards  God  a" 
towards  his  neighbour  besides  the  satisfaction  of  every  per 
son's  curiosity,  and  the  answering  every  querist's  interroga 
tions.  The  precepts  of  the  divine  law  are  to  be  interpret©* 
in  such  a  manner  that  one  commandment  shall  not  be  made, 
clash  with  another,  but  that  the  whole  shall  work  together  i 
self-consistent,  hnrmonious,  and  practicable  system.  It  is  m 
childishness  to  take  a  text  from  Scripture,  and  fasten  u 
it  some  one  practical  interpretation,  which  makes  obedience  t 
certain  other  texts  an  utter  impossibility.  The  duty  of  th 
casuist  is  to  ascertain  the  Divine  Will,  by  studying  the  lette 
of  the  divine  commands  in  the  spirit  of  their  true  significance 

•  See  his  Pratica  dei  Confessori,  chap.  v.  p.  2.  v.  15.  Altro  e  la  bugia.  altr 
e  I'equivoco.  .  .  .  Quando  dunque  vi  e  giusta  causa,  ben  possiamo  lecitament 
rispondere  ed  anche  giurare  coll'  equivoco  o  coUa  restrizioue  non  pura  raeutali 
perche  allora  non  s'intende  d'ingannare  il  prossimo  (il  che  6  sempre  illecito)  m 
di  permettere  ch'esso  s'inganni  da  se,  giacche  non  sempre  siamo  tenuti  di  risponder 
secondo  la  mente  di  colui  che  interroga.  Even  if  the  Saint's  examples  or  illustra 
tions  fail  in  their  application,  his  doctrine  is  not  wrong,  and  his  theory  of  truthful 
ness  remains  perfect. 


^te* 

i 


I 


Equivocation,  as  taught  hy  St.  Alphonsus  Liguori.    325 

and  not  by  heaping  text  upon  text,  assuming  that  he  knows 
their  full  meaning  from  the  beginning,  and  throwing  them 
in  the  face  of  every  person  who  takes  a  different  view  from 
himself. 

Now,  we  allege  that  innumerable  circumstances  arise  in 
the  details  of  human  life,  in  which  a  query  cannot  be  directly 
answered  without  a  violation  of  some  moral  obligation  which 
we  are  bound  to  strain  every  nerve  to  fulfil.  No  man  has  a 
right  to  my  knowledge,  when  I  could  not  communicate  it  to 
him  without  injuring  my  neighbour  or  myself.  I  am  not  only 
permitted  to  keep  my  secret ;  I  am  bound  by  every  law  of 
love  and  justice  to  keep  it.  At  the  same  time,  it  has  pleased 
Almighty  God  to  forbid  absolute  falsehood  in  men's  inter- 
course with  one  another.  My  duty,  therefore,  is  to  keep 
both  of  these  commands;  to  preserve  the  rights  of  him  whom 
the  telling  of  the  whole  truth  would  injure,  and  at  the  same 
time  not  to  assert  that  a  thing  is,  which  really  is  not. 

With  this  end,  all  sensible  and  conscientious  men  practise 
what  is  called  equivocation.  They  use  some  phrase  or  gesture 
which  will  serve  to  conceal  the  information  from  the  person 
who  has  no  right  to  claim  it,  and  at  the  same  time  will  not 
necessarily  make  him  believe  that  which  is  positively  false. 
We  repeat,  that  all  sensible  and  conscientious  men  practise 
equivocation.  Protestantism,  not  having  any  thing  that  can 
be  called  a  recognised  moral  science,  necessarily  possesses  no 
code  of  definitions  on  the  subject  of  lying  and  equivocation. 
Every  man  has  to  follow  the  unaided  dictates  of  his  own  con- 
science and  common  sense ;  but  in  practice  he  nevertheless 
equivocates  incessantly;  and  it  is  only  because  he  is  little 
aware  of  the  principles  on  which  he  acts,  that  he  makes  use  of 
the  charge  of  equivocation  as  a  serviceable  cheval-de-hataille 
for  attacking  the  ranks  of  Catholic  controversialists. 

As  to  the  precise  nature  of  the  devices  by  which  truth  may 
be  lawfully  concealed:  here,  of  course,  diiferences  of  opinion 
will  arise.  One  man  conceives  some  one  class  of  devices  to  be 
natural,  lawful,  and  honourable,  which  another  disdains  and 
denounces  with  indignation.  The  truth,  however,  we  take  to 
be  this :  that  every  country,  every  age,  and  every  rank,  will 
have  its  own  particular  recognised  modes  of  equivocation ; 
which  are  accordingly  lawful,  each  to  each,  but  which  may  be 
absolutely  unjustifiable  in  cases  where  such  modes  are  not 
recognised.  The  Englishman  has  one  device,  the  Italian 
another,  the  American-Indian  a  third.  Each  may  be  totally 
different  from  the  rest,  and  may  appear  detestable  in  the  eyes 
of  those  who  are  not  brought  up  in  the  corresponding  state  of 
public  opinion ;  but,  nevertheless,  each  mode  answers  its  pur- 


S26    Equivocation,  as  taught  by  St.  Jlplionsus  Ligiiori. 

pose,  Nvliicli  is  to  lay  down  a  certain  line  of  demarcation  be 
tween  what  may  be  done,  and  may  not  be  done  ;  so  that  ever 
sensible  person  knows  precisely  where  he  stands,  and  in  vvha 
circumstances  the  burden  of  discovering  the  truth  is  throw 
upon  a  querist. 

The  Italian  mode,  adopted  by  St.  Alphonsus  Liguori,  an 
by  others  of  the  same  school  long  before  he  lived,  may  be  on 
which  has  little  attraction  for  the  English  mind.     But  so,  alsc 
the  English  style  of  equivocation  may  appear  scandalous  to 
narrow-minded  Italian.     English  public  opinion  does  nothaj 
pen  to  recognise  any  beauty  or  desireableness  in  what  it  coi 
siders  a  trick,  and  prefers  what  it  calls  a  good  open  lie.     Bt 
the  fact  is,  that  certain  ideas  are   universally  recognised  i 
English  society,  which  prevent  what  our  Englishman  calls 
good  open  lie  from  being  any  lie  at  all,  and  confer  on  it  t! 
character  of  an  equivocation.     To  the  Englishman,  therefo: 
those  modes  of  speech  may  be  permitted  which  would  be  al 
solute  sins  to  an  Italian,  whose  social  phraseology  is  frame 
on  a  different  idea.     When  this  is  borne  in  mind,  the  vario 
equivocations  justified  by  St.  Alphonsus,  and  which  seem 
the  Christian  Remembrancer  so  ridiculously  quibbling,  and 
striking  at  the  very  root  of  all  mutual  confidence  between  nr 
and  man,  assume  an  entirely  different  aspect.     If  any  nati 
or  age  chooses  to  adopt  such  devices,  for  the  protection 
those  who  possess  information  which  they  have  a  right  to  co. 
ceal,  what  is  that  to  us  ?     These  devices  answer  tjieir  pur 
as  well  as  ours  do.     Certain  things  are  known  to  be  equiv 
tions ;  and  people  are  no  more  deceived  by  them,  than  wii 
British  footman  says,  ''  My  master  is  not  at  home,"  his  ma 
being   at  home    all  the  while ;    an  expression  which    m 
Italian  footmen  would  account  a  sinful  lie. 

For  Englishmen,  of  all  races  of  men,  to  denounce  St. 
phonsus  and  other  advocates  of  equivocation,  is  indeed 
absurdity.  The  whole  frame-work  of  our  national  and  s 
life  is  (so  to  say)  oiled  with  recognised  equivocations ;  which, 
far  as  words  go,  are  often  nothing  less  than  glaring  falseiiood 
but  which  society  agrees  to  accept  as  sentences  of  douhti 
meaning.  Begin  with  the  Universities  of  Oxford  and  Cai 
bridge. 

At  Oxford  (and  we  believe  at  Cambridge  also)  the  Fello^ 
swear  to  ohserve  the  college  statutes,  without  the  remotest  i 
tention  of  so  doing.  There  is  not  a  word  of  limitation  to  t 
promise,  so  as  to  confine  it  to  things  enforced.  They  swc 
as  the  original  founders  bade  them,  i.  e.  to  do  the  very  thin 
which  the  founders  intended  to  be  actually  and  always  do] 
There  is  no  recognised  authority  for  dispensing  with  the 


:i 


Equivocation,  as  taught  hy  St.  Alphonsus  Liguori.     3^7 

servance ;  yet  the  swearing  goes  on.  Are  these  men  all  per- 
jured, in  the  sense  in  which  a  man  is  perjured  who  passes 
on  me  a  forged  50/.  note,  and  swears  that  he  knows  it  is  not 
forged  ?  By  no  means :  public  opinion  sanctions  the  lie  as  a 
lawful  one,  and  so  far  converts  it  from  a  lie  into  an  unmeaning 
form.  Doubtless  it  is  a  scandal,  a  trap  for  consciences,  an 
abomination  ;  but,  strictly  speaking,  it  is  not  a  lie. 

So  in  minor  things  :  every  body  uses  certain  phrases,  which 
distinctly  assert  a  gross  falsehood,  taken  literally ;  but  which 
English  society  has  agreed  to  accept  as  modes  for  concealing 
trutlis  which  the  speakers  wish  to  conceal,  and  for  the  use  of 
which  it  does  not  condemn  them  as  liars.  A  person  arraigned 
before  a  court  of  justice  positively  denies  his  guilt,  meaning 
only  that  he  conceals  the  truth  as  to  whether  he  is  guilty  or 
not.  The  lawyer  who  defends  him  puts  on  an  appearance  of 
belief  in  his  innocence,  and  even  asserts  that  innocence,  throw- 
ing the  burden  of  the  proof  of  guilt  upon  the  accuser.  In 
other  words,  he  "  equivocates ;"  and  society  admits  the  lawful- 
ness of  his  ambiguous  language.  As  an  illustration  of  the 
virtual  adoption  of  the  Catholic  theory  by  Protestants,  it  is  to 
be  further  observed,  that  there  is  a  point  at  which  an  advocate 
is  expected  to  stop  in  his  asseverations  of  his  client's  innocence. 
Far  as  a  barrister  is  permitted  to  go  in  his  efforts  to  conceal 
a  client's  guilt,  he  is  not  permitted  to  throw  that  guilt  on  a 
person  whom  he  knows  to  be  innocent.  This  latter  trick  is 
treated  as  an  unlawful  lie. 

Or  take  another  legal  case.  An  attorney  who  has  the 
charge  of  an  important  lawsuit  aifecting  the  fortune  of  a 
chent,  is  asked  point-blank  in  private  by  a  friend  of  the  op- 
posite party  whether  a  certain  document  is  in  existence,  the 
loss  of  w4iich  would  decide  the  trial  against  his  client.  What 
would  any  honourable  attorney  do  if  thus  questioned,  sup- 
posing it  was  impossible  to  refuse  a  reply  without  a  tanta- 
mount admittance  that  the  document  was  lost?  Will  any 
rational  person  doubt  that  it  would  be  his  duty  to  frame  some 
equivocal  phrase,  which  would  throw  the  questioner  upon  a 
wrong  scent  ?  Or,  if  he  even  positively  asserted  that  the 
document  was  not  lost,  would  not  a  justification  be  found  for 
the  assertion  in  the  fact  that  the  querist  had  no  right  to  put 
the  question  ? 

A  burglar  breaks  into  my  house,  and  asks  where  my 
money  is  concealed ;  or  a  murderer  puts  a  question  which 
involves  the  life  of  an  innocent  man.  I  answer  him  with 
direct  falsehoods,  so  far  as  words  go ;  but  they  are  not  real 
falsehoods,  because  the  burglar  and  the  murderer  have  put 
themselves  into  the  position  of  an    enemy   in  time   of  war, 


328     Equivocation,  as  taught  by  St,  Alphonsus  Ltyuori, 

where  stratagems  and  deceits  are  honourable.  They  have  no 
right  to  put  the  question,  and  therefore  I  am  permitted  to 
give  them  a  false  reply. 

In  war,  as  we  have  said,  stratagems  and  deceits  are 
honourable.  In  the  settlement  of  a  truce  or  a  peace,  they 
are  dishonourable  and  unlawful.  Yet  in  war  there  is  one 
case,  which  might  convince  anti-Cathclic  polemics  that  morals 
frequently  present  problems  most  difficult  to  determine.  We 
mean  the  position  of  spies.  Is  it  inexcusable  or  excusable  to 
go  as  a  spy  into  the  enemy's  camp  ?  If  it  is  inexcusable,  why 
do  all  military  commanders  employ  spies ;  if  it  is  excusable, 
why  is  the  spy  usually  despised  by  his  employers,  and  exe- 
cuted, when  discovered,  with  an  igiiominious  death  ?  In  the 
words  of  moral  science,  is  spying  equivocation  or  lying  ?  In 
trade  and  business  certain  equivocations  are  universally  per- 
mitted ;  while,  at  the  same  time,  an  arbitrary  custom  permits 
one  person  to  use  that  particular  equivocation  which  in  an- 
other person's  mouth  would  be  a  lie.  I  go  into  a  bookseller's 
shop,  and  say,  "  What  is  the  price  of  Macaulay's  History  of 
England  ?"  The  shopman  names  the  exact  publisher's  price  ; 
or  if  he  names  another,  it  is  a  lower  price.  If  he  asks  me 
more,  I  consider  myself  cheated  and  swindled.  I  walk  out, 
and  say  to  a  fishwoman  sitting  by  the  side  of  the  pavement, 
*'  What  is  the  price  of  that  pair  of  soles  ?"  She  knows  n(  ~ 
thing  about  my  knowledge  of  the  price  of  fish  ;  but  she  replie^ 
**  Eighteenpence,"  when  she  means  to  take  a  shilling  or  nin< 
pence,  if  she  can  get  it.  Does  she  lie,  as  the  bookseller  woul 
have  done  if  he  had  named  a  false  price  for  Macaulay's  Enj 
land  ?  Far  from  it.  And  why  ?  Because  it  is  the  Englis 
custom  to  bargain  for  fish,  but  not  for  new  books.  Tl 
fishwife  uses  an  "  equivocation."  Her  meaning  is,  "  Tl 
price  is  eighteenpence,  if  you  are  foolish  enough  to  give  it  mei 
And  a  man  who  ignorantly  gave  the  eighteenpence  woul 
be  a  simpleton  if  he  thought  the  woman  a  swindler  for  asl 

Or,  I  walk  into  a  linendraper's,  and  ask  to  see  some  silk, 
or  linen,  or  what  not,  of  the  best  quality.  The  man  brings  me 
a  specimen,  and  says,  "  This  is  the  best  quality."  But  tlie 
chances  are  five  to  one,  or  ten  to  one,  that  it  is  not  the  best, 
as  I  meant  it,  i.  e.  the  best  that  is  made ;  and  which  the 
shopman  perhaps  knew  that  I  meant.  His  reply  was  an  equL 
vocation,  and  fully  stated,  amounted  to  this,  **  It  is  the  b< 
quality  ive  have  to  sell."  The  custom  of  business,  howevei 
throws  the  burden  of  discovery  on  me,  and  exonerates  tl 
tradesman  from  the  guilt  of  lying. 

A  person  asks  A.B.  if  he  knows  who  is  the  author  of  J 


Equivocation^  as  taught  hy  St.  Alphonsus  Liguori.     3£9 

certain  paper  in  a  periodical,  or  a  certain  book;  A.  B.  himself 
being  the  author,  but  wishing  to  keep  his  secret  to  himself. 
He  replies,  "  I  have  never  heard  a  word  about  the  subject." 
Will  any  literary  man  in  England  stigmatise  this  equivoca- 
tion as  a  dishonourable  falsehood  ?  C.  D.  dines  with  E.  F., 
and  finds  nothing  that  suits  his  palate  or  his  digestion ;  and 
accordingly  is  half  starved  in  the  midst  of  plenty.  Is  it 
unlawful  for  him  to  equivocate,  in  his  reply  to  his  host^s  kind 
expressions  of  hope  that  he  has  made  a  good  dinner  ? 

In  fact,  private  life  would  be  intolerable  without  equi- 
vocation. Every  impertinent  fellow  would  be  master  of  his 
neighbour's  comfort  and  dearest  secrets,  if  we  were  not  to  be 
allowed  to  put  him  off  with  phrases  of  doubtful  meaning,  in 
order  to  throw  him  on  a  wrong  scent.  The  common  and 
vulgar  proverb,  "  Ask  me  no  questions,  and  I'll  tell  you  no 
lies,"  embodies  alike  the  Catholic  doctrine  and  the  common 
judgment  of  humanity.  It  is  equivalent  to  saying,  "  Ask  no 
impertinent  questions,  unless  you  are  willing  to  be  deceived. 
If  you  do  meddle  with  what  does  not  concern  you,  you  must 
not  be  surprised  if  you  get  lies  in  return."  So  far  from 
equivocation  being  fatal  to  private  peace  and  comfort,  there 
could  be  none  without  it. 

The  disgraceful  unfairness  of  the  accusations  made  against 
Catholics  by  men  who  boast  of  the  guileless  simplicity  of  the 
true  Protestant  heart,  comes  out  into  still  clearer  light  when 
we  turn  to  the  writings  of  the  greatest  Protestant  authorities 
on  moral  subjects.  It  may  answer  a  party-purpose  to  con- 
trast a  certain  Bishop  Sanderson  with  St.  Alphonsus,  after  the 
fashion  of  the  Remembrancer,  and  to  assume  that  Sanderson 
is  the  exponent  of  the  universal  Protestant  mind.  But,  in 
truth,  the  assumption  is  neither  more  nor  less  than  an  equivo- 
cation equivalent  to  a  controversial  falsehood  of  the  first  mag- 
nitude. For  one  follower  of  Sanderson,  Jeremy  Taylor  has 
five  hundred;  and  while  Sanderson's  books  are  confined  to 
the  shelves  of  a  few  *'  Anglo-Catholic"  speculatists,  Paley 
has  actuall}^  formed  the  opinions  of  thousands  and  tens  of 
thousands  of  Cambridge  graduates.  Hear  Jeremy  Taylor, 
then,  on  lying: — "It  is  lawful  to  tell  a  lie  to  our  neighbour 
by  consent,  provided  the  end  be  innocent  or  pious."  "  To 
tell  a  lie  for  charity,  to  save  a  man's  life,  hath  not  only  been 
done  in  all  times,  but  commended  by  great,  wise,  and  good 
men."  "  Who  would  not  save  his  father's  life,  or  the  lite  of 
his  king,  or  of  a  good  bishop  and  guide  of  souls,  at  the  charge 
of  a  harmless  lie,  from  the  rage  of  persecution  and  tyrants  ?" 
"  If  it  be  objected,  '  that  we  must  not  tell  a  lie  for  God,  there- 
fore much  less  for  our  brother,'  I  answer  that  it  does  not  fol- 


330    Eqnivocatiojiy  as  taught  by  St.  Alphonsus  Liguori. 

low ;  for  God  needs  not  a  lie,  but  our  brother  does."     Witl 
mucli  more  to  the  same  purpose.* 

Now  turn  to  Paley : — *'  There  are  falsehoods  which  are  not 
lies,  i.e.  which  are  not  criminal ;  as,  where  the  person  to  whoir 
you  speak  has  no  right  to  know  the  truth,  or  more  properly 
where  little  or  no  inconvenience  results  from  the  want  of  con- 
fidence in  such  cases ;  as  where  you  tell  a  falsehood  to  a  mad- 
man for  his  own  advantage ;  to  a  robber,  to  conceal  your  pro- 
perty ;  to  an  assassin,  to  defeat  or  divert  him  from  his  purpose 
....  Many  people  indulge,  in  serious  discourse,  a  habit  ol 
■fiction  and  exaggeration  in  the  accounts  they  give  of  them- 
selves, of  their  acquaintance,  or  of  the  extraordinary  thingi 
which  tiiey  have  seen  or  heard  ;  and  so  long  as  the  facts  they 
relate  are  indifferent,  and  their  narratives,  though  false,  are 
inoffensive,  it  may  seem  a  superstitious  regard  to  truth  tc 
censure  them  merely  for  truth's  sake."f 

Or,  take  the  opinions  of  the  great  writers  on  national  rights 
whose  opinions  are  regarded  as  of  the  weightiest  importance  i: 
the  conduct  of  affairs  between  state  and  state  ;  we  mean  Gro- 
tius  and  Puffendorf.  These  writers  w^ere  not  Catholic  casuists 
but  men  of  clear  heads,  sound  judgments,  and  recognised  in- 
tegrity, in  all  that  relates  to  the  intercourse  between  man  and 
man.     First  hear  Grotius  : 

"  Licet  veritatem  occultare  prudenter  sub  aliqua  dissimi 
latione."     Lib  iii.  (De  Mendacio),  §  7. 

*'  Significationis  falsitas,  id  est  quod  ad  communem  men( 
cii  naturam  requirimus.  Cui  consequens  est  cum  vox  aliqi 
aut  sermonis  complexio  est  iroXvarj/jLOf;,  i.  e.  plures  uno  sigr 
ficatus  admittit,  sive  ex  vulgi  usu,  sive  ex  artis  consuetudii 
sive  ex  figura  aliqua  intelligibili,  tunc  si  animi  conceptus  uj 
istarum  significationum  congruat,  non  admitti  mendaciui 
etiamsi  putetur  is  qui  audit  in  aliam  partem  id  accepturus. 

"  Verum  est  talem  locutionem  usurpatam  temere  non  pi 
bandam,  sed  potest  ex  accedentibus  causis  honestari :  puta' 
id  pertineat  ad  erudiendum  eum  qui  curae  nostras  est  traditus, 

aut  ad  evitandam  iniquam  interrogationem Dictum 

Hebraeorum  hie  pertinet:   *  Si  quis  norit  uti  perplexiloquio, 
recte:  sin  minus,  taceat.'"     §  JO. 

Among  other  cases,  he  allows  a  lie  {mendacium),  "  qucties 
certum  est  eum  ad  quern  sermo  est  libertatis  suae  in  judicando 
lassionem  non  iegre  laturum,  imo  gratias  habiturum  eo  nomine, 
ob   commodum   aliquod    quod   inde  as&equitur,  tunc  quoq™ 
mendacium  stricte    dictum,  i.  e.  injuriosum,  non  committi^ 
§  14.  (3.) 

*  Doctor  Dubitantium,  book  iii.  cbap.  2. 

t  Moral  and  Political  Philosophy,  book  iii.  part  1,  chap.  15. 


Equivocation  J  as  taught  hy  St.  Alphooisns  Liguori.     S'Sl 

"  Quotiesquihabet  jus  supereminens  in  omnia  jura  alterius, 
eo  jure  bono  ipsius  sive  proprio  sive  publico  utitur,"  God  ex- 
cepted ;  because  a  falsehood  is  a  mark  of  weakness.    §  15.  (4.) 

"  Quoties  vita  innocentis,  aut  par  aliquid  aliter  servari,  et 
alter  ab  improbi  facinoris  perfectione  aliter  averti  non  potest.'* 
§10.(5.) 

Now  turn  to  PufFendorf :  Devoirs  de  V Homme  et  du  Citoyen; 
tr.  par  Barbeyrac.  "  La  verite  consiste  a  faire  en  sorte  que 
les  signes  exterieurs,  dont  on  se  sert,  et  surtout  les  paroles, 
representent  fidelement  nos  pensees  a  ceux  qui  ont  droit  de 
les  comiaitre,  et  auxquels  7ious  sommes  tenus  de  les  decouvrir 
en  vertu  d'une  obligation  ou  parfaite  ou  imparfaite :  et  cela, 
soit  pour  procurer  quelque  avantage  qui  leur  est  du,  soit  pour 
lie  pas  leur  causer  injustenient  du  dommage.  Mensonge  con- 
siste a  se  servir  de  paroles  ou  d'autres  signes  qui  ne  respondent 
pas  a  ce  que  Ton  a  dans  I'esprit,  quoique  celui  avec  qui  Ton  a 
affaire  ait  droit  de  connaitre  nos  pensees,  et  que  Ton  soit  oblige 
de  lui  en  fournir  les  moyens,  autant  qu'il  depend  de  nous.'" 
Libi  iv.  cap.  1,  §  8. 

Hence,  he  says :  "  Rien  n'est  plus  faible  que  les  raisons  dont 
quelquesunes  se  servent  pour  prouver  que  tout  discours  con- 
traire  a  ce  que  on  a  dans  I'esprit  est  criminel  de  sa  nature. 
Quiconque,  disent-ils,  parle  autrement  qu'il  ne  pense  abuse 
honteusenieiit  de  sa  langue,  et  deshonore  par  la  ce  bel  instru- 
ment que  le  Createur  lui  a  donne  pour  manifester  aux  autres 
ses  pensees,"  &c. 

In  §  10  he  says,  that  "  the  right  to  know  our  thoughts  is 
not  of  nature,  nor  the  right  of  the  strongest,  but  solely  con- 
ventional ;  it  is  indispensable  for  society  that  in  general  you 
should  say  what  you  mean,  and  mean  what  you  say  ;"  with 
a  great  deal  more  to  the  same  purpose. 

The  barriers  against  the  abuse  of  equivocation,  and  against 
its  being  allowed  to  grow  into  unlawful  fraud,  are  laid  down 
with  accuracy  by  Catholic  moralists.  We  know,  therefore, 
what  we  are  about.  This  thing  is  an  equivocation,  that  thing  is 
a  lie.  We  know  when  we  may  rest  assured  that  we  have  got  at 
the  truth,  and  when  the  burden  of  its  discovery  is  thrown  upon 
our  own  acuteness.  Hence  the  immense  practical  advantage 
of  our  minute  casuistry,  which  seems  so  quibbling  to  those 
who  are  left  to  the  vague  generalities  of  mere  essayists  or 
preachers,  or  the  unscientific  speculations  of  their  own  judg- 
ments, oiten  both  weak  and  inexperienced.  One  chief  safe- 
guard laid  down  by  theologians  against  the  abuse  of  equivoca- 
tion, lies  in  tlie  fundamental  axiom,  that  we  may  not  equivo- 
cate to  a  person  whose  relation  to  us  is  such  that  he  has  a 
right  to  hioiv  the  truth.     The  relation  of  a  parent  to  a  child. 


332    Equivocation,  as  taught  by  St,  Alphonsus  Liguori, 

of  a  master  to  a  servant,  of  a  judge  to  a  witness,  of  a  physician. 
to  a  voluntary  patient,  even  (say)  of  a  bankrupt's  creditors  to 
a  bankrupt,  is  quite  different  from  that  of  persons  who  are  in 
a  condition  of  perfect  equality,  and  who  are  bound  by  no  pe- 
culiar engagement  to  one  another.  And  this  must  specially 
be  borne  in  mind,  when  we  read  such  opinions  as  those  quoted 
by  the  Remembrancer  from  St.  Alphonsus.  St.  Alphonsus 
all  along  presupposes  that  the  person  whom  we  design  to  mis- 
lead is  one  who  has  no  kind  of  I'ight  over  us,  and  who  there- 
fore ought  to  be  prepared  for  equivocal  replies,  and  to  be  con- 
tent to  be  thrown  on  his  own  wits  for  discovering  the  precise 
truth. 

Another  great  safeguard  consists  in  the  habitual  cultivation 
of  a  straightforward,  sincere,  and  open  character.     An  equi- 
vocating disposition  is  detestable.     Every  body  dislikes  ma- 
noeuvrers.    No  reasonable  man  is  angry  at  being  deceived  when 
he  has  asked  an  impertinent  or  mal-d-propos  question;  but  we 
all  hate  to  think  that  people  trick  us  for  the  mere  sake  of 
tricking.     To  those  who  fancy,  because  Catholic  theologians 
theoretically  permit  a  vast  variety  of  equivocations,  that  there- 
fore Catholic  society  is  practically  more  tainted  with  a  de- 
ceiving, intriguing  spirit  than  Protestant  society,  we  can  only 
reply  that  they  are  egregiously  mistaken.     We  would  under- 
take at  any  time  to  get  the  exact  truth  on  any  subject  out 
of  a  Catholic,  whether  priest  or  layman,  with  half  the  trouble 
it  would  take  to  "pump"  a  Protestant  of" similar  character  an( 
in  similar  circumstances.     Among  ourselves,  it  is  notorious 
that  we  are  open  to  a  positive  fault.     We  cannot  keep  oui 
secrets  as  closely  as  we  ought.     Every  body  is  inclined  to  tef 
every  body  every  thing.     Never  was  there  a  more  laughable 
misconception,  than  the  notion  that  Catholics  go  about  amon^ 
one  another  with  masks  on  their  faces  and  doiible-entendres  oi 
their  tongues.     We  do  not  pretend  to  be  all  truth-tellers,  oi 
all  faultless  in  any  way.     But  unquestionably,  our  faults  d( 
not  lie  on  the  side  of  excessive  craft  and  detestable  ingenuity.' 

Again,  as  we  have  before  remarked,  there  exist  innumer- 
able cases  in  which  an  act  or  phrase  of  equivocation  is  perfectly 
lawful  in  the  abstract,  which  would  be  practically  unlawful  to 
an  individual  Christian  in  almost  every  possible  combination 
of  circumstances.  And  as  it  is  the  province  of  the  scientific 
casuist  to  analyse  human  actions,  so  as  to  define  what  acts 
come  under  one  law  of  duty,  and  what  acts  come  under  an- 
other, so  it  is  the  duty  of  every  Christian  pastor  to  teach  the 
lawfulness  or  unlawfulness  of  individual  actions,  with  a  spe- 
cial reference  to  their  particular  circumstances.  Hence,  what 
the  casuist  may  say  is  not  wrong  as  a  lie,  the  pastor  will  often 


Equivocation,  as  taught  by  St,  Alphonsus  Liguori.     SSS 

forbid  as  a  scandal,  a  trifling  with  dangerous  weapons,  an  in- 
jury to  some  friend  or  neighbour,  or  a  distrust  of  Divine  pro- 
tection. And  so  too  in  every  other  possible  human  action. 
We  utterly  repudiate,  therefore,  and  protest  against  the  charge, 
that  because  our  moralists  minutely  define  a  multitude  of  sen- 
tences or  deeds,  as  not  forbidden  by  this  or  that  one  law  in 
particular,  we  therefore  habitually  act  upon  these  definitions; 
or  account  it  lawful  to  act  upon  them,  simply  because  we  so 
find  it  written  in  books  of  casuistry.  And  with  equal  warmth 
and  distinctness  do  we  deny  the  notion,  or  the  suspicion,  that 
our  clergy  are  in  the  habit  of  inculcating  any  ideas  on  truth, 
equivocation,  or  any  other  moral  subject,  which  bear  the  re- 
motest resemblance  to  the  vulgar  charges  against  them.  We 
make  no  profession  of  universal  spotlessness  or  infallibility 
either  for  our  priests  or  laymen.  Of  course,  we  have  our  black 
sheep ;  but  we  assert  that,  especially  among  the  clergy,  they 
are  rare  to  an  extraordinary  degree.  And  of  those  who  are- 
not  "  black  sheep,"  doubtless  now  and  then  one  may  be  found 
who  is  in  error  in  some  point  of  detail,  and  whose  words  and 
actions  are  open  to  fair  censure.  More  than  this  we  do  not 
for  a  moment  admit. 

It  is  undesirable  generally  to  bandy  accusations  ;  but,  under 
the  present  circumstances,  it  is  impossible  not  to  retort  upon  our 
assailant  in  the  Remembrancer  the  very  charge  he  has  so  reck- 
lessly brought  against  us.  We  do  not  think  it  would  be  possible 
to  point  out  in  the  writings  of  any  respectable  Catholic  contro- 
versialist so  dishonourable  a  case  of  unjustifiable  equivocation, 
as  occurs  in  the  very  article  we  are  noticing.  How  far  the 
Reviewer's  representation  of  Liguori's  teaching  is  to  be  de- 
pended on,  may  be  gathered  from  the  manner  in  which  he 
quotes  St.  Alphonsus'  argument  for  equivocation,  drawn  from 
two  passages  in  the  gospels.  The  Reviewer  (p.  42)  quotes  the 
greater  part  of  a  long  paragraph,  where  St.  Alphonsus  argues 
in  favour  of  equivocation  from  two  incidents  in  our  Blessed 
Lord's  life,  in  which  He  used  ambiguous  expressions  to  His 
disciples.  The  first  of  the  two  instances  the  Reviewer  gives, 
as  he  conceives  himself  able  to  show  that  it  will  not  bear  the 
interpretation  St.  Alphonsus  puts  upon  it.*  The  second  in- 
stance he  entirely  omits;  putting  in  its  place  three  dots,  and 
then  proceeding  with  the  remainder  of  the  extracts.     Why  he 

*  The  learned  reader  will  not  be  disposed  to  put  much  faith  in  the  Reviewer's 
knowledge  of  Greek,  when  he  finds  him  asserting  that  the  tense  of  ava^aivw  must 
be  changed  in  order  to  give  it  a  future  signification.  Is  it  possible  that  the 
Reviewer  has  forgotten  that  the  use  Qii)a&present  tense  with  d.  future  signification 
IS  even  more  common  in  Greek  than  in  English  ?  Did  he  never  use  such  an 
expression  as,  "  I  go  to  London  next  week  ;"  meaning,  "  I  shall  go  ?" 


oSA     Equivocation,  as  tofught  by  St,  Alphonsus  Liguori. 

dirl  this,  is  evident.  It  is  impossible  to  deny,  that  when  our 
Blessed  Lord  said,  "  Of  that  day  or  hour  no  man  knoweth, 
neither  the  angels  in  heaven,  nor  the  Son,  but  the  Father," 
He  used  an  equivocation  which  the  disciples  were  certain  not 
to  penetrate.  Indeed,  the  passage  is  incessantly  urged  by 
Socinians  as  a  proof  that  our  Blessed  Lord  ivas  not  the  Eternal 
Son  of  God.  Now  we  ask  any  candid  Protestant  whether  these 
dots  are  not  an  equivocation  of  the  most  startling  audacity,  and 
totally  unjustifiable  in  a  person  who  voluntarily  comes  forward 
to  teach  others,  professing  to  tell  them  the  exact  truth,  and 
with  solemn  professions  of  "  truthfulness"  on  his  lips,  and 
bringing  the  heaviest  accusations  against  millions  and  millions 
of  those  whom  he  calls  his  fellow-Christians.  He  was  waiting 
to  Protestant  readers,  of  whom  probably  not  one  would  think 
of  turning  to  the  original  passage  to  test  the  accuracy  of  the 
quotations;  and  he  carries  on  his  argument  on  the  assumption 
that  he  has  stated  St.  Liguori's  whole  case  in  his  own  words. 
Is  this  '^  truthfulness  ?"  Is  it  justifiable  "  equivocation  ?"  Is 
it  not  w'ilful  deception  ?  But  this  is  not  all.  The  Reviewer 
has  the  hardihood  to  preface  his  effort  to  overthrow  Liguori's 
reasoning  with  a  distinct  assertion  that  he  has  quoted  the  whole 
passage.  Here  are  his  words :  "  We  cannot  pass  over  the  in- 
ferences drawn  from  the  quotations  made  in  the  passage  luhich 
we  have  extracted  without  some  criticism.  These  quotations 
are  made  from  our  Lord's  words,  as  related  in  the  gospels,  from 
St.  Augustine,  and  from  Thomas  Aquinas"  (p.  46).  Are  we 
uncharitable  if,  on  receiving  such  treatment  from  an  ad 
versary,  w-e  quote  another  sentence  of  our  Blessed  Lord's: 
**  Woe  to  you,  scribes  and  Pharisees,  hypocrites;  blind 
guides,  who  strain  out  a  gnat,  and  swallow  a  camel  ?" 


With  a  word  or  two  on  one  more  of  the  Reviewer's  mis 
representations  we  bring  our  remarks  to  a  close.  He  quotes 
a  long  passage  from  that  wittiest,  keenest,  and  most  unscru- 
pulous of  controversialists,  Pascal,  to  show  the  absurd  and 
licentious  character  of  the  well-known  doctrine  of  *'  probable 
opinions."  He  would  have  his  readers  believe,  that  this  doc- 
trine implies  that  any  man  may  adopt  any  course  of  action  which 
his  inclinations  lead  him  to,  if  only  he  can  find  a  statement  of 
its  being  abstractedly  lawful  in  the  writings  of  a  single  grave 
author.  Now  what  is  the  fact?  The  doctrine  of  probable 
opinions  is  nothing  more  than  the  scientific  enunciation  of  the 
practice  which  common  sense  dictates  to  every  intelligent  per- 
son, who  desires  to  go  through  life  at  once  as  a  practical  and 
a  conscientious  man.  Briefly  stated,  and  divested  of  techni- 
calities, it  amounts  to  this :  i 


i 

I 


Equivocation,  as  taught  by  St.  Alphonsus  Ligiiori.     So5 

Occasions  for  action  will  frequently  occur,  in  which,  after 
loying  our  utmost  candour  and  abilities  to  ascertain  what 
c>  tiie  precise  line  of  conduct  we  ought  to  adopt,  so  as  strictly 
o  conform  ourselves  to  the  laws  ot"  God,  we  yet  find  it  im- 
>ible  to  strike  a  balance  between  the  arguments  on   the 
^osite  sides  of  the  question.     What  is  a  Christian  man  to 
lo  in  such  a  case?     Is  he  to  sit  dreaming  away  the  time  for 
iction  ?     Is  he  bound  to  adopt  the  view  which  he  most  dis- 
ikes;  or  may  he  at  once  adopt  that  which  his  own  interest 
ends  him  to  prefer  ?     Religion  and  good  sense  unite  in  dic- 
ating  a  third  course.    They  say,  *'  Consult  a  friend  or  two  on 
(Tour  difficulty.    Don't  go  to  a  simpleton,  or  a  prejudiced  man, 
)r  a  fanatic,  or  a  man  of  paradoxes;   but  go  to  one   or  two 
Dersons  of  integrity,  who  have  experience  and  good  judgment, 
who  will  see  the  thing  in  its  clear  light,  unbiassed  by  any 
personal  preferences ;  and  act  without  scritple  on  their  advice. 
If  you  cannot  get  rid  of  your  scruples,  do  not  act  at  all ;  but  if 
you  really  think  the  arguments  equal  before  you  consult  your 
friends,  then,  in  your  cas^,  whatever  may  be  your  friends'judg- 
tnent,   it  will  be  probably  the  true  one.     At  any  rate,  Al- 
mighty God,  who  sent  us  into  the  world,  not  for  listless  specu- 
lation, but  to  act  up  to  the  light  we  possess,  will  be  perfectly 
satisfied  with  your  decision."    This  is  the  doctrine  of  probable 
opinions.    Scientific  moralists  are  the  intelligent  friends  whom 
a  doubting  person  consults.     The  assertion  that  a  man  is  jus- 
tified in  following  ivhat  he  is  incUried  to,  though  in  his  con- 
science he  suspects  it  to  be  wrong,  on   the  authority  of  any 
one  or  two  writers  he  may  lay  hold  of,  is  a  pure  calumny. 
He  consults  his  friend,  or  his  learned  written  authority,  be- 
cause his  own  judgment  does  not  incline  to  either  side.     The 
time  for  acting  is  come,  the  arguments  on  each  side   appear 
equal,  he  asks  his  friend  to  settle  the  matter  for  him;  on  re- 
ceiving his  friend's  advice  he  lays  aside  his  previous  doubts, 
and  he  acts  accordingly.     Whether  his  inclmations  were  on 
that  side  or  no,  the  principle  is  the  same,  viz.  that  where  the 
obligation  of  a  supposed  law,  or  its  application  to  a  particular 
case,  is  doubtful,  the  judgment  of  two  or  three  competent  ad- 
visers forms  a  sufficient  ground  for  unhesitating  action   to  a 
reasonable  and  upright  man. 

Repeating,  then,  our  sense  of  the  difficulty  of  presenting 
such  topics  as  we  have  handled  in  the  brief  space  of  a  few 
pages,  we  lay  the  above  remarks  before  the  honest  Protestant 
reader,  feeling  assured  that  they  will  commend  themselves  to 
his  good  sense  and  candour.  And  for  ourselves,  we  conclude 
our  rapid  sketch  with  a  renewed  sense  of  that  perfect  appli- 
cabihty  of  the  entire  Catholic  system   of  morals,   discipline, 


336  Catholic  Hymnology : 

and  worship,  to  the  necessities  of  human  nature,  which  is  at 
once  a  token  of  its  divine  origin,  and  a  most  interesting  sub- 
ject for  philosophical  and  devout  meditation. 


CATHOLIC  HYMNOLOGY: 

LIFE  OF  BLESSED  JACOPONE  DI  TODI. 

A  CURIOUS  instance  of  the  careless  and  negligent  manner  in 
which  antiquarian  and  archaeological  inquiries  are  sometimes 
conducted,  is  afforded  by  the  article  in  the  Ecclesiologist,  from 
which  we  copied  the  sequence  Fregit  victor  virtualis,  in  our 
December  Number. 

No  one  would  have  supposed  it  possible  that  the  most 
ordinary  sources  of  information  upon  a  subject  so  interesting 
as  lost  sequences  by  the  author  of  the  Dies  irce,  could  have 
been  neglected  by  individuals  professing  to  be  able  to  enlighten 
the  public  mind  upon  points  of  Catholic  antiquity  ;  and  we 
might  have  expected  that  the  obvious  course  of  consulting 
early  printed  Missals  would  have  been  resorted  to  before  the 
libraries  of  Lisbon  were  ransacked  in  search  of  manuscripts. 
This,  however,  has  not  been  the  case ;  at  least  in  the  present 
instance.     A  correspondent  informs  us  that  the  Fregit  victor 
virtualis  is  to  be  found  in  the  first  three  early  printed  PariJI 
Missals  which  he  has   happened    to   consult,  being  those  oPI 
Thielman  Kerner,  of  15^0;  of  Desiderius  Maheu  and  John 
Kerbriant,  1525;  and  of  Yolande  Bonhomme,  1555;  and  he 
has  sent  us  also  the  other  prose  of  Thomas  de  Celano,  Sancti- 
tatis  nova  signa,  the  supposed  loss  of  which  is  bewailed  by  the 
editor  of  the  Ecclesiologist,  but  which  is  to  be  found  in  ail 
three  of  the  Missals  we  have  alluded  to.     They  occur  amoi^j 
many  others,  some  of  which  are  extremely  beautiful,  at  tl" 
end  of  the  Missal,  under  the  following  heading : 

"  Sequuntur  sequentice  sive  prosce  multum  devotcB :  et  ad 
devotionem  animum  excitantes^  pro  voto  celehrantium  dicenda' 
■vel  ohmittendcBj  prout  etiam  laudahilis  et  antiqua  consueindo 
multorum  tarn  in  ordine  Minorum  quam  alibi  hahetJ"*  And 
the  particular  sequence  referred  to  is  as  follows : 

*  There  are  a  few  verbal  variations  between  the  Sequence  as  we  published  it,  ai 
the  copy  in  the  possession  of  our  correspondent,  which  some  of  our  readers  ml 
be  glad  to  have  signalised. 

In  the  2d  line  of  the  10th  stanza  the  Missal  has  incendens  for  absorbens. 
the  Ist  line  of  the  12th,  ior  fixa  mente  tendens ,  Jixam  mentetn  tenens.     In  the 
of  the  same,  for  specie  seraphicA,  ac  trahens  suspiria.    In  the  2d  line  of  the  16li 


Life  of  Blessed  Jacopone  di  Todi. 


337 


Dc  Stlgmatibus  sacris  et  pro 
Sanctitatis  nova  signa 
Prodierunt  valde  digna, 
Mira  valde,  sed  benigna 

In  Francisco  credita. 
Regularis  novi  i-egis 
Vita  datur  novse  legis  ; 
Renovantur  jussa  regis 

Per  Franciscum. 
Novus  ordo,  nova  vita 
Mundo  surgit  inaudita. 
Restauravit  lex  sancita 

Statum  Evangelicum, 
Legis  Christi  pariforme 
Reformatur  jus  conforme. 
Tenet  ritus,  datur  norme 

Culmen  Apostolicum. 
Corda  rudis,  vestis  dura, 
Cingit,  tegit  sine  cura, 
Panis  datur  in  mensura, 

Calceus  abjicitur. 
Paupertatem  tantum  cjuserit, 
De  mundanis  nihil  gerit, 
Hsec  terrena  cuncta  terit, 

Loculus  despicitur. 
Qucerit  locum  lacryraarum, 
Promit  voces  cor  amarum, 
Gcmit  mocstus  tempus  caruin 

Perditum  in  seculo. 
Montis  antro  sequestratus 
Plorat,  orat  humo  stratus. 
Tandem  mente  serenatus 

Latitat  ergastulo. 
Ibi  vacat  rupe  tectus, 
Ad  divina  sursus  vectus 
Spernit  ima  judex  rectus, 

Eligit  celestia. 
Carnem  frenat  sub  censurS. 
Transformatam  in  figura  ; 
Cibum  capit  de  scriptura, 

AVjjicit  terrestria. 
Tunc  ab  alto  vir  hierarcha 


aliis  Festis  ejusdevi.     Prosa. 
Venit  ecce  rex  nionarcha, 
Pavet  iste  patriarcha 

Visione  territus. 
Defert  ille  signa  Christi 
Cicatricem  confert  isti, 
Dum  miratur  corde  tristi 

Passionem  tacitus. 
Sacrum  corpus  cousignatur, 
Dextrum  latus  jierforatur, 
Cor  amore  inflammatur 

Cruentatum  sanguine. 
Verba  miscent  archanorum, 
Multa  clarent  futurorum, 
Videt  sanctus  vindictorum 

Mistico  spiramine. 
Patent  statim  miri  clavi 
Nigri  foris,  intus  flavi. 
Pungit  dolor  poena  gravi, 

Cruciant  aculei. 
Cessat  artis  armatura 
In  membrorum  apertura, 
Non  impressit  hos  natura, 

Non  tortura  mallei. 
Signa  crucis  qui  portasti, 
Unde  mundum  triumpbasti, 
Carnem  hostem  superasti 

Inclita  victoria. 
Nos,  Francisce,  tueamur 
In  adversis  protegamur 
Ut  mercede  perfruamur 

In  celesti  gloria. 
Pater  pie,  pater  sancte, 
Plebs  devota  te  juvante 
Turba  fratrura  comitante 

Mereatur  praemia. 
Fac  consortes  supernorum 
Quos  intbrmas  vita  morum  ; 
Consequatur  grex  Minorum 

Sempiterna  gaudia. 


We  avail  ourselves  of  this  opportunity  to  publish  another  lost 
sequence,  or  at  least  one  which  is  very  little  known  ;  and,  in- 
deed, was  nowhere  published,  we  believe,  before  the  beginning 
of  this  century.  The  Catholic  ear  and  heart  are  so  deeply 
penetrated  by  the  ineffable  beauty  and  toucliing  pathos  of  the 
Siabat  Mater  dolorosa,  that  at  first,  perhaps,  they  may  almost 


for  effectura  excedelam,  affatu  excedeham  ;  in  the  3d,  for  mirijico,  pacifico.  In 
the  1st  of  the  18th,  for  convellatus,  convelatus ;  the  former  is  an  evident  error, 
lu  the  3d  of  the  21th,  for  imitari,  the  Missal  has  immutari ;  and  for  Christum^ 
Christi.  In  the  1st  of  the  2.5th,  O  is  read  instead  of  Die,  without  interrogation. 
In  the  2d  of  the  26th,  for  redimentis,  resurgentis.  In  the  2d  of  the  ;30th,  ac  caput 
ipinis.  In  the  2d  of  the  31st,  loquaci  for  fallaci ;  and  in  the  last  stanza,  the  vere 
is  omitted. 


VOL.  I. NEW  SERIES. 


B  B 


S3S 


Catholic  Hymnology  : 


^ 


turn  away  with  feelings  of  real  repugnance  from  the  following 
poem,  as  tliough  it  were  something  artificial,  a  mere  imitation 
— we  had  almost  said  a  'parody — of  the  divine  composition  re- 
ferred to.  Yet  it  is  certain  that  both  the  one  and  the  other 
were  written  by  the  same  hand,  and  M.  Ozanara  even  raises  a 
doubt  as  to  which  of  them  was  written  first ;  though  upon  this 
question  we  confess  we  should  not  have  thought  that  there 
could  have  been  two  opinions.  The  writer  we  have  mentioned 
discovered  the  poem  in  a  MS.  in  the  National  Library,  and 
believed  tj^at  it  had  never  been  published  before :  this,  how- 
ever, was  a  mistake,  for  it  had  been  printed  in  Paris  by  M. 
Gence  in  1809,  and  again,  with  some  alterations,  by  M.  Louis 
Verdure  in  1810.  The  following  is  the  version  given  by  M. 
Ozanam  : 


Stabat  Mater  speciosa 
Juxta  foenum  gaudiosa 
Dum  jacebat  parvulus. 

Cujus  animam  gaudentem 
Laetabundam  et  ferventem 
Pertransivit  jubilus. 

O  quam  Iseta  et  beata 
Fuit  ilia  immaculata 
Mater  Unigeaiti ! 

Quae  gaudebat,et  ridebat, 
Exultabat,  cum  videbat 
Nati  par  turn  inclyti. 

Quis  est  qui  non  gauderet, 
Christi  Matrena  si  videret 
In  tanto  solatio  ? 

Quis  non  posset  collsetari 
Christi  Matrem  contemplari 
Ludentem  cum  filio  ? 

Pro  peccatis  suse  gentis, 
Christum  vidit  cum  jumentis, 
Et  algori  subditum. 

Vidit  suum  dulcem  natum 
Vagientem,  adoratum 
Vili  diversorio. 
Nato  Christo  in  prsesepe, 
Coeli  cives  canunt  Isete 
Cum  iramenso  gaudio. 

Stabat  senex  cum  puella, 
Non  cum  verbo  nee  loquela, 
Stupescentes  cordibus. 
Eja  Mater,  fons  amoris  ; 
Me  sentire  vim  ardoris 
Fac  ut  tecum  sentiam ! 
Fac  ut  ardeat  cor  meum 
In  amaudo  Christum  Deum 
Ut  sibi  complaceam. 


Sancta  Mater,  istud  agas  ; 
Prone  introducas  plagas 
Cordi  fixas  valide. 

Tui  nati  coelo  lapsi. 
Jam  dignati  foeno  nasci 
Poenas  mecura  divide. 

Fac  me  vera  congaudere, 
Jesulino  cohserere, 
Donee  ego  vixero. 

In  me  sistat  ardor  tui, 
Puerino  fac  me  frui, 
Dum  sum  in  exilio. 


I 


Hunc  ardorem  fac  communem, 
Ne  facias  me  immunem 
Ab  hoc  desiderio. 

Virgo  virginum  praeclai-a, 
Mihi  jam  non  sis  amara, 
Fac  me  parvum  capere. 

Fac  ut  portem  pulchrum  fante 
Qui  nascendo  vieit  mortem 
Volens  vitam  tradere. 

Fac  me  tecum  satiari 
Nato  tuo  inebriari, 
Stans  inter  tripudia. 

Inflammatus  et  accensus, 
Obstupescit  omnis  sensus 
Tali  de  coramercio. 

Fac  me  nato  custodiri, 
Verbo  Dei  praemuniri, 
Conservari  gratia. 

Quando  corpus  morietur, 
Fac  ut  animae  donetur 
Tui  nati  visio. 


Life  of  Blessed  Jacopone  cli  Todi.  S39 

The  author  of  this  hymn,  and  its  companion  the  Stahat 
Mater  dolorosa,  was  the  Blessed  Jacopone  di  Todi ;  and  we 
will  borrow  from   M.    Ozanam's  volume   on   the   Franciscan 
poets  some  details  of  his  very  interesting  life.     He  was  bora 
of  the  noble  family  of  the  Benedetti,  in  the  little  town  of 
Todi,  in  Umbria,  a  little  before  the  middle  of  the  thirteenth 
century.     He  was  bred  to  the  study  of  the  law,  at  that  time 
the  most  lucrative  of  all  professions,  and,  it  would  appear,  the 
most  perilous  to  the  condition  of  the  soul.     No  less  than  ten 
thousand   students   frequented    the   famous    legal  schools    of 
Bologna,  and  many  of  them  led  most  riotous  and  disedifying 
lives.     Jacobo  de'  Benedetti  was  a  youth  of  very  considerable 
abilities  ;  but  in  other  respects  he  does  not  seem  to  have  been 
any  better  than  his  neighbours:  he  indulged  in  most  expen- 
sive habits,  which  obliged  him,  as  soon  as  he  had  taken  his 
doctor's  degree,  and  had  been  paraded  through  the  city  in  the 
usual  fashion — clad  in  scarlet,  mounted  on  horseback,  and  pre- 
ceded by  the  four  trumpeters  of  the  university — to  return  to 
his  native  town,  and  seek  to  repair  his  shattered  fortunes  at 
the  expense  of  any  of  his  neighbours  who  happened  to  be  of  a 
litigious  turn  of  mind.     Gentlemen  of  this  class  were  particu- 
larly abundant  in  Italian  towns  in  those  days,  so  that  Jacobo 
found  no  lack  of  subjects  on  which  to  exercise  his  legal  acu- 
men.   He  succeeded  admirably  in  his  profession ;  moreover,  he 
made  a  most  happy  and  advantageous  selection  of  a  partner 
for  life  ;   so  that  the  brightest  worldly  prospects  seemed  fairly 
open  before  him.     The  merciful  providence  of  God,  however, 
had  other  designs  upon  him  ;  and  a  sudden  accident,  so  to  say, 
changed  the  whole  current  of  his  life.     On  the  occasion  of 
some  public  festival,  in  the  year  1268,  Jacobo's  young,  rich, 
and  beautiful  bride  took  her  place  among  a  number  of  other 
ladies  of  rank  on  an  elevated  platform,  from  whence  she  might 
the  better  enjoy  the  spectacle.     Presently  the  platform  gave 
way,  and  Jacobo,  rushing  to  the  spot,  lifted  his  dying  sposa 
from  amid  the  broken  planks.     On  proceeding  to  tear  open 
her  dress,  to  ascertain  the  nature  of  the  injuries  she  had  sus- 
tained, he  discovered,  to  his  extreme  amazement,  beneath  the 
silks  and  fine  linen  which  met  the  public  eye,  a  coarse  covering 
of  sackcloth  ;  and  at  the  same  moment  the  lady  expired  in  his 
arms.     Deeply  moved  by  this  incident,  he  entered  into  him- 
self, and  immediately  resolved  on  an  entire  change  of  life.     In 
a  few  days  it  was  whispered  abroad  that  Jacobo  de'  Benedetti 
was  gone  mad  ;  he  had  sold  all  his  goods,  and  distributed  them 
to  the  poor ;  he  was  to  be  seen  frequenting  the  streets  and 
the  churches,  clothed  in  mere  rags.     The  very  children  fol- 
lowed him  as  he  went  along,  hooting  at  him,  and  crying  out, 


340  Catholic  HymnQlogy  : 

"  There  goes  mad  Jim  I"  adding  to  liis  name  tlie  usual  Italian 
termination  of  contempt  or  abuse,  and  calling  him  Jacopone. 
Yet  those  who  watched  him  more  closely  might  perhaps  have 
discovered  that  there  was  something  like  "  method  in  his 
madness."  One  day  he  went  to  the  wedding  of  his  niece,  be- 
dizened all  over  with  plumes  of  feathers,  as  if  in  mockery  of 
all  the  vanities  he  saw  around  him.  On  another  occasion, 
being  m^et  in  the  market-place  by  some  of  his  relatives,  they 
begged  him  to  carry  home  a  couple  of  fowls  they  had  just 
bought,  and  immediately  he  carried  tliem  off  to  the  family- 
vault  in  the  church  of  St.  Fortunatus ;  and  when  he  was 
scolded  for  not  having  executed  his  commission,  and  asked 
what  he  had  done  with  the  fowls,  he  replied,  "  You  bade  me 
take  them  home  for  you  ;  and  where  is  your  home  but  that 
place  where  you  will  abide  for  ever  ?  Domus  ccternliatis 
vestrcs.""  (Psalm  xlviii.  12.)  At  another  time  he  came  into 
the  midst  of  a  large  party,  only  half-clothed,  crawling  on  all- 
fours,  and  saddled  and  bridled  like  a  beast  of  burden ;  and 
often,  when  he  had  attracted  great  crowds  after  him  in  the 
streets  by  some  peculiarity  of  costume  or  behaviour,  he  would 
suddenly  turn  round  and  preach  a  most  eloquent  sermon, 
denouncing  the  sins  and  scandals  of  the  town,  and  moving 
the  hearts  of  many  of  his  hearers  to  a  sincere  repentance.  It 
should  be  mentioned  also,  that  during  all  this  time  he  was 
most  indefatigable  in  his  study  of  the  holy  Scriptures  and 
other  good  books,  and  was  continually  meditating  upon  the 
eternal  truths,  praying,  and  leading  a  most  mortified  life. 

He  continued  in  this  way  for  about  ten  years,  when  oi 
day  he  knocked  at  the  door  of  a  Franciscan  convent,  and  dj 
sired  to  be  admitted  as  a  postulant.     It  may  easily  be  im( 
gined  that  they  did  not  feel  much  disposed  to  receive  such 
applicant ;  and  day  after  day  he  was  continually  put  off 
some  new  excuse.     At  last  he  brought  with  him  two  littl 
hymns  or  proses,  one  in  Latin,  the  other  in  Italian,  which 
had  composed  with  a  view  to  convincing  them  that  he  was 
his  right  mind,  and  no  madman.     Indeed,  the  Italian  prose 
directly  explained  the  secret  of  his  madness,  as  the  opening 
lines  of  it  will  sufficiently  show. 

"  Udite  nova  pazzia, 
Che  mi  viene  in  fantasia. 
Viemmi  voglia  d'esser  morto, 
Perche  io  sono  visso  a  torto  ; 
lo  lasso  il  mondan  conforto, 
Per  pigliar  piu  dritta  via,  &:c." 

Jacopone,  therefore — for  he  begged  to  be  allowed  still  U 
retain  the  name  of  derision  which  the  world  had  given  him 


I 


Life  of  Blessed  Jacopone  di  Todi,  341 

now  became  a  Franciscan  friar,  and,  we  need  scarcely  add,  of 
the  strictest  observance.  He  fasted  on  bread  and  water, 
mingled  bitter  herbs  with  his  food,  refused  to  be  promoted  to 
holy  orders,  and  chose  to  be  employed  in  all  the  most  menial 
offices  of  the  house  as  a  lay  brother.  It  is  recorded  of  him, 
that  one  day,  being  sorely  tempted  to  break  his  abstinence,  he 
procured  a  piece  of  raw  meat,  and  hung  it  up  in  his  cell  until 
it  became  putrid,  dih'gently  repeating  to  his  appetite  every 
day,  "  Here  is  the  food  you  so  much  coveted  ;  why  don't  you 
take  and  enjoy  it  ?"  Of  course,  a  self-imposed  penance  of 
this  kind  was  necessarily  betrayed  in  process  of  time  to  the 
other  members  of  the  community,  in  no  very  agreeable  way, 
through  the  evidence  of  their  olfactory  nerves.  All  the  cells 
in  the  house  were  visited  to  discover  the  culprit ;  and  when 
discovered,  he  was  sharply  rebuked  and  punished.  This  was 
no  more  than  he  wished  ;  and  he  immediately  composed  on 
this,  as  well  as  on  all  other  similar  occasions,  a  most  touching 
cantique,  in  which  he  pours  forth  the  inmost  feelings  of  his 
soul,  and  manifests  a  degree  of  fervent  charity  that  could  not 
be  exceeded  by  a  St.  Teresa  or  a  St.  John  of  the  Cross, 

It  must  not,  however,  be  supposed  that  Jacopone  was 
always  indulging  in  eccentricities,  and  behaving  differently 
from  his  brethren  in  the  monastery.  On  the  contrary,  he  was 
so  conspicuous  for  his  prudence  and  ability,  no  less  than  for 
his  zeal,  that  he  was  deputed  by  the  community  to  negotiate 
some  delicate  affair  in  which  they  were  interested  with  the 
Court  of  Rome ;  and  his  companions  were  astonished  as  well 
as  edified  by  the  degree  of  patient  forbearance  which  he  ex* 
hibited  in  the  management  of  it. 

The  severest  trials,  however,  of  his  life  were  yet  to  come. 
If  he  had  flattered  himself  that  by  flying  from  the  world  he 
had  bid  adieu  for  ever  to  all  troubles  and  dissensions,  he  was 
now  to  be  undeceived.  New  trials  arose  in  the  bosom  of  the 
Church,  and  even  from  the  midst  of  that  retirement  of  the 
cloister  which  he  had  so  eagerly  sought.  The  Franciscan 
order,  which  he  had  joined,  was  divided  just  now  into  two 
parties ;  one,  who  were  seeking  from  the  Pope  a  relaxation  of 
the  original  severity  of  the  rule,  saying  that  it  was  only  suited 
for  angels  and  not  for  men  ;  the  other,  who  wished  to  main- 
tain the  rule  of  St.  Francis  in  all  its  integrity  and  strictness. 
Unfortunately,  the  officers  and  principal  authorities  of  the 
order  belonged  to  the  former  class  ;  Jacopone,  as  might  have 
been  expected,  to  the  latter.  When  in  1294-  the  austere  and 
holy  pontiff,  Celestin  V.,  was  called  to  the  chair  of  St.  Peter, 
he  authorised  the  brothers  spiritual  (as  the  stricter  portion  of 
the  Franciscans  were   called)  to  live   according  to  the  exact 


342  Catholic  Hymnology  : 

letter  of  their  rule,  in  communities  separate  from  the  conven- 
tuals— for  so  the  anti-reformers  were  called — and  under  supe- 
riors of  their  own  choosing.  This  called  forth  the  warmest 
gratitude  of  our  Franciscan  poet.  But  Celestin's  reign  did 
not  last  long.  At  the  end  of  five  months  he  resigned,  and  was 
succeeded  by  the  celebrated  Boniface  VIII.  Not  long  after 
his  election,  this  Pope  consulted  Fra  Jacopone,  whose  high 
spiritual  attainments  were  well  known  even  beyond  the  limits 
of  his  convent,  as  to  the  meaning  of  a  certain  dream  which  he 
had  had,  and  which  troubled  him  much.  He  had  dreamt  that 
he  had  seen  a  bell,  whose  circumference  embraced  the  whok 
earth,  but  which  had  no  clapper  ;  and  Fra  Jacopone  told  him 
that  the  bell  denoted  the  pontifical  dignity,  which  embraced 
the  whole  world  ;  and  bade  him  beware  lest  the  clapper  should 
denote  the  fame  of  a  good  example,  in  which  he  (Pope  Boni- 
face VIII.)  should  be  found  wanting.  One  would  be  almost 
tempted  to  suspect  from  this  language  that  the  friar  had  al- 
ready seen  or  imagined  some  cause  for  forming  no  very 
favourable  opinion  of  the  new  pontiff*;  but,  be  this  as  it  may, 
he  certainl}^  formed  such  an  opinion  not  long  afterwards,  when 
the  Pope  revoked  the  privileges  which  his  predecessor  had 
granted  to  the  friars  minors,  or  Franciscans  of  the  strict  ob- 
servance, and  placed  them  again  under  the  jurisdiction  of  the 
conventuals.  It  happened  also,  that  just  about  this  tin 
certain  strange  reports  were  put  in  circulation  concerninj 
Boniface  VIII.  and  the  manner  of  his  election  to  the  pontifici 
throne.  Fra  Jacopone  was  thoroughly  deceived  by  these  n 
ports,  and  became  a  partisan  of  the  Pope's  enemies.  He  wa 
one  of  the  witnesses  whose  names  were  attached  to  the  formj 
protest  of  the  Cardinals  Colonna,  denouncing  Boniface  as 
"usurper,  and  summoning  him  to  be  judged  by  a  genei 
council  then  about  to  be  held.  He  fell,  therefore,  under  tl 
sentence  of  excommunication  pronounced  by  the  Pope  agains 
theColonnas  and  their  adherents;  and  when,  in  September  129^ 
Palestrina,  the  stronghold  of  the  Colonnas,  was  taken  by  tl^ 
pontifical  troops,  he  was  thrown  into  prison.  It  was  in  vaii! 
that  he  appealed  from  the  solitude  of  his  confinement  to  the 
compassion  of  Boniface,  whom  he  now  learnt  to  recognise  as  the 
lawful  occupier  of  the  Holy  See.  The  Pope,  with  that  rigour 
which  characterised  his  whole  life,  turned  a  deaf  car  to  all 
entreaties.  It  is  even  said,  that  one  da}',  as  he  was  passing  his 
prison,  he  called  to  him,  and  jecringly  asked  him  when  h| 
would  come  out;  to  which  the  religious  replied,  "  Holj 
father,  when  you  come  in ;"  a  reply  which  his  biographe: 
look  upon  as  prophetic,  and  consider  to  have  been  fulfilled  bj 
the  sacrilegious  affair  of  Anagni  in  September  1303,  followec 


Life  of  Blessed  Jacojpone  di  Todi,  343 

as  it  was,  by  the  absolution  and  liberation  of  Jacopone  in  the 
month  of  December,  by  order  of  the  successor  of  Boniface, 
Pope  Benedict  XI. 

The  remainder  of  .the  good  friar's  days  was  spent  in  the 
retirement  of  the  cloister;  but  they  were  not  many.  Towards 
the  end  of  the  year  1306  he  was  taken  ill,  and  his  brethren 
urged  him  to  receive  the  last  sacraments.  He  said  he  would 
do  so  as  soon  as  his  dear  friend  John  of  Alvernia,  also  a 
Franciscan,  should  arrive  to  administer  them.  The  fathers 
were  greatly  distressed  at  this  reply;  for  they  had  no  reason  to 
expect  that  John  of  Alvernia  was  at  all  likely  to  come  and 
visit  them  ;  and  there  was  clearly  no  time  to  send  him  the 
news  of  his  friend's  danger,  and  to  summon  his  assistance. 
Jacopone,  however,  took  no  notice  of  these  lamentations,  but 
immediately  intoned  a  spiritual  hymn  of  his  own  composing ; 
and  scarcely  had  he  ended  this  hymn,  when  John  of  Alvernia 
and  a  companion  arrived,  having  been  drawn  to  pa}^  this  visit 
to  his  friend  by  an  overwhelming  presentiment,  which  he 
could  neither  account  for  nor  resist.  After  receiving  all  the 
holy  rites  of  the  Church,  Jacopone  burst  forth  into  a  song  of 
triumphant  joy,  in  the  midst  of  which  he  raised  his  eyes  to 
heaven,  and  breathed  forth  his  last  sigh,  just  at  the  moment 
when  a  priest  in  a  neighbouring  church  was  intoning  the 
Gloria  in  excelsis  in  the  midnight  Christmas  Mass. 

Such  was  tlie  life  of  the  author  of  that  most  divine  compo- 
sition, the  Stahat  Mater  dolorosa ;  and  besides  the  other  Latin 
hymns  which  we  have  published  to-day,  he  wrote  two  or  three 
others,  also  in  the  same  language.  The  great  bulk  of  his 
poems,  however,  were  written  in  the  native  language  of  the 
poorest  classes  of  the  Um.brians,  a  coarse  dialect  of  the  Ita- 
lian ;  and  of  these  he  composed  upwards  of  200.  They  cause 
him  to  be  a  great  favourite  among  the  people  ;  so  that  his  name 
became  embalmed  in  their  memory,  as  of  the  poet  of  divine 
love  and  the  model  of  penitence.  And  Rome,  which  had 
visited  with  temporal  punishment  the  momentary  error  of  the 
politician,  revrarded  with  the  honours  of  beatification  the  vir- 
tuous life  of  the  religious. 


344  The  B'ujlit  Honourable  Benjamin  Disraeli. 


1 


THE  EIGHT  HONOURABLE  BENJAMIN  DISBAELT. 

T/ie  Might:  Hon,  Benjamin  Disraeli^  M.P. ;  a  Literary  and 
Political  Biography ,  addressed  to  the  New  Generation, 
London  :  Bentley. 

What  will  not  boundless  brass  and  brilliant  ingenuity  effect 
in  this  world  ?  Surely  mankind  are  made  to  be  gulled.  There 
are  quacks  in  every  trade,  profession,  and  rank  of  life.  Who 
is  there  that  has  not  been  swindled  in  his  day  ?  Who  has  noj 
taken  paste  for  diamonds,  gilded  copper  for  pure  gold,  and  w 
brazen  countenance  for  the  open  look  of  an  honest  man  ? 
Happy  they  who  have  only  been  cheated  to  a  moderate  extent, 
who  have  not  been  robbed  of  their  fortune,  their  affections,  or 
their  reputation,  by  some  one  of  the  clever  scoundrels  who  go 
about  to  deceive,  and  regard  mankind  as  one  vast  assemblage 
of  cheatables. 

Were  any  society  impregnable  against  these  snares  of 
quackery,  we  should  have  taken  the  House  of  Commons  to  be 
that  happy  spot,  until  Mr.  Disraeli  became  the  leader  of  the 
Tory  opposition.  People  tell  us,  on  the  information  supplied 
by  sagacious  M.P.s  themselves,  that  in  "the  House"  at  lea; 
'*  every  man  finds  his  level."  That  favoured  floor,  we  are  tol 
is  the  test  of  every  man's  pretensions.  Folly  is  laughed  a 
roguery  denounced,  and  imposture  exposed.  The  humbu 
^vhich  tells  upon  electors  at  the  hustings  falls  powerless  on 
ears  of  the  elected  representatives  ;  platform  oratory  is  at 
discount  wdien  addressed  to  "Mister  Speaker;"  and  the  m 
who  individually  and  in  their  private  lives  are  open  to  th 
trickery  of  any  plausible  and  impudent  charlatan,  when  ass( 
ciated  in  that  glory  of  the  universe — the  British  House 
Commons — are  transformed  into  a  tribunal  before  which  in& 
lence  blushes,  hypocrisy  is  unmasked,  and  folly  learns  wi 
dom. 

We  will  venture,  however,  to  assert,  that,  whatever  be  the 
estimate  of  Honse-of-Commons  wisdom  entertained  by  hon- 
ourable members  in  general,  there  is  at  least  one  of  their  num- 
ber who  holds  their  penetration  very  cheap.  The  Right.  Hon. 
Benjamin  Disraeli  is  that  man.  There  can  be  little  doubt 
that  he  values  the  brains  of  the  right  honourable  assembly  i 
which  he  holds  a  conspicuous  position,  or  at  least  those  of 
considerable  portion  of  its  members,  at  a  price  that  is  tolerabl 
conunensuratc  to  their  merits.  The  mountebank  always  take 
a  pretty  accurate  measure  of  the  capacities  of  his  listeners 


I 


The  Right  Honourable  Benjamin  Disraeli,  345 

be  marks  the  gaping  mouth,  the  uplifted  eye,  the  feeble  ten- 
sion of  the  facial  muscles,  the  gently  uplifted  hands ;  and 
while  with  solemn  gravity  he  expounds  the  virtues  of  his 
nostrums,  in  his  secret  soul  he  laughs  at  the  simplicity  which 
he  is  turning  to  so  profitable  an  account.  We  should  like  to 
see  Mr.  Disraeli's  genuine  opinion  of  the  squirearchy  and 
Tory  aristocracy  of  England.  We  apprehend  a  more  amus- 
ing exposure  of  human  credulity  and  political  degradation 
could  scarcely  be  produced  from  the  annals  of  imposture  and 
popular  delusions.  Nor  are  we  by  any  means  without  hope 
that  we  shall  some  day,  perhaps  soon,  be  favoured  with  such  a 
production  from  the  Disraelian  pen.  There  are  already  certain 
significant  indications  that  Disraelism  is  going  out  of  fashion 
with  the  countr}^  and  Tory  party,  such  as  it  is.  And  if  the 
very  versatile  individual  whom  they  have  so  long  applauded, 
finds  that  it  no  longer  pays  to  flatter  them  and  blow  the 
trumpet  in  their  honour,  we  may  rest  assured  that  no  com- 
punctions of  conscience,  and  no  blushing  feelings  of  modesty, 
will  prevent  him  from  turning  round  once  more,  and  bespat- 
tering them  with  all  the  acrimonious  gall  whicli  they  have 
thought  so  very  pretty  an  instrument  of  warfare  when  dis- 
charged in  the  faces  of  Peel,  Peelites,  and  Whigs.  If  they 
could  only  lay  hold  of  a  sharp  and  clever  debater,  with  a  few 
rags  of  character  to  clothe  him,  so  as  to  enable  them  to  do 
without  the  satirical  rhetorician,  whose  charlatanry  they  have 
long  suspected,  a  few  months  or  weeks  would  witness  a  fresh 
veering  of  the  weathercock,  and  the  Tory  and  agricultural 
mind  would  be  painted  as  never  it  was  painted  before. 

Whenever  tlie  event  takes  place,  and  it  is  the  unfortunate 
lot  of  the  objects  of  Mr.  Disraeli's  present  animosity  to  become 
the  objects  of  his  adulation,  we  recommend  the  volume  be- 
fore us  as  a  very  serviceable  prophykictic  against  pestilential 
infection.  The  political  world  owes  its  author  a  debt  for  his 
labours,  and  for  his  complete  exposure  of  the  chief  charlatan 
of  the  day.  No  man  who  was  not  an  honourable  politician 
could  stand  such  a  dissection  as  that  to  which  Mr.  Disraeli 
is  here  subjected.  Who  the  author  of  the  book  may  be,  we 
do  not  know.  From  internal  marks,  we  should  suspect  him 
to  be  one  of  the  best  of  the  "  gentlemen  of  the  press.""  His 
style  has  all  the  mechanical  fluency  of  that  prolific  class;  he 
never  knows  when  he  is  getting  tedious.  Often  he  says  a 
good  thing ;  but  for  page  after  page  he  bores  one  with  pro- 
found disquisitions  in  disproof  of  the  most  manifest  and  un- 
interesting of  platitudes.  He  expresses,  moreover,  a  sort  of 
unreal  sense  of  the  magnitude  of  his  hero — if  a  personage  whom 
a  writer  delights  to  belabour  may  be  called  his  hero — which 


346  The  Right  Honourable  Benjamin  Disraeli. 

savours  strongly  of  the  newspaper  school.  All  the  sillinesses 
and  paradoxes  which  Mr.  Disraeli  has  uttered  to  the  world,  in 
novels,  pamphlets,  and  speeches,  but  which  are  not  worth  a 
moment's  refutation,  this  writer  elaborately  picks  to  pieces, 
with  a  solemn  gravity  which,  were  it  not  insufferably  tedious, 
would  be  quite  entertaining.  He  had  a  good  subject,  and  he 
might  have  produced  a  lively  and  effective  exposure  of  Mr.  Dis- 
raeli's career  in  a  book  of  about  one-half  the  size  of  this  bulky 
volume.  It  was  said  of  Swift,  that  he  could  write  finely  even  on 
so  unpromising  a  subject  as  a  broomstick  ;  what,  then,  could  not 
be  made  of  one  who  is  not  a  broomstick,  but  a  barbed  arrow 
or  a  poisoned  tongue!  Mr.  Disraeli  ought  to  be  his  own 
biographer.  None  but  himself  could  execute  justice  upon  the 
love  of  pompous  nonsense,  the  never-failing  plausibility,  the 
heartless  bitterness,  the  recklessness  of  the  ties  which  restrain 
ordinary  men,  and  the  shameless  inconsistencies,  which  have 
marked  his  conduct  from  his  first  appearance  in  the  world  till 
the  last  session  of  Parliament. 

The  biography,  nevertheless,  has  one  great  merit  in  its 
unquestionable  painstaking,  and  the  patient  study  which  it 
shows  of  Mr.  Disraeli's  writings,  speeches,  and  actions.     In 
this  respect  the  result  of  the  author's  labours  is  amply  satis- 
factory.     He  has  even   detected    the  little    sneaking   phrase 
which  Mr.  Disraeli  has  introduced  [snh  silentio)  into  the  re- 
cent edition  of  his  novel  Venetia,  in  order  to  cover  the  thef 
which  he  had  committed  upon  Mr.  Macaulay,  and  which  ha( 
been  detected  by  critics  some  time  after    Venetia  was  pubi 
lished.       The  work  also  is  thoroughly  good-tempered  through^ 
out.     In  fact,  it  is  almost  too  much  like  a  judge's  verdict  oil 
a  man  of  some  pretence  to  reputation,  and  whose  detecte( 
offences  were  of  no  very  flagrant  enormity.     Disraeli  is  no( 
and  never  was,  a  personage  of  so  much  importance  as  his  bi< 
grapher  imagines.  .  He  was  never  much  above  the  rank  of  i 
tool.      At  the  best,  he  has  held  the  position   of  a  leader  oi 
condottieri,  or   of  outlawed  brigands;    who  is  elected  to  the 
command,  not  from  any  deference  to  his  character  or  respect  fol 
his  opinions,  but  because  he  is  a  good  shot,  has  a  cruel  heart) 
an  unfailing  audacity,  and  a  readiness  of  resource  in  tinies  of 
conflict  or  danger.     Thus  it  was  that  so  little  notice  was  takei 
of  his  theft  from  a  French  review,  in  his  oration  on  the  Duke 
of  Wellington's  death.     The  writer  of  this  biography  consi- 
ders that  it  was  from  the  magnanimous  spirit  of  the  House  ol 
Commons  that  so  little  use  was  made  of  this  piece  of  effrontery 
on  the  part  of  the  op})osition.     The  fact  was,  that  nobodj 
cared  a  rush  for  Mr.  Disraeli's  character.     He  had  none  t( 
damage.     His  supporters  were  not  his  friends,  and  they  look( 


The  Right  Honourable  Benjamin  Disraeli*  347 

upon  his  literary  larceny  as  an  uninteresting  and  unimportant 
trifle ;  while  his  opponents  did  not  account  him  worth  the 
trouble  of  an  exposure.  How  justly  thej  judged  who  thus 
visited  his  literary  offence  with  the  censure  of  neglect,  a  few 
reminiscences  of  his  career  will  suffice  to  show. 

Mr.  Disraeli  comes  of  a  Jewish  family  from  Venice.  His 
grandfather  came  to  England  to  settle  in  the  year  1748.  His 
father  was  a  well-known  author,  or  rather,  a  gatherer  of  lite- 
rary curiosities.  He  appears  to  have  renounced  Judaism  and 
all  religion  together ;  for  the  chief  traces  of  any  feelings  on 
the  subject  which  are  to  be  found  in  his  books,  are  the  ex- 
pressions of  hatred  to  any  thing  approaching  Catholicism  and 
the  supernatural.  In  the  year  18^6,  being  then  cibout  one- 
and-twenty  years  of  age,  our  ex-Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer 
first  claimed  the  attention  of  the  English  public  as  editor  of 
the  Representative  newspaper.  His  politics  may  be  gathered 
from  one  of  his  sentences  in  that  short-lived  periodical.  "  Eng- 
land," said  Mr.  Disraeli,  "  has  been  reproached  for  governing 
Ireland  on  too  despotic  pri;iciples ;  in  our  humble  opinion,  she 
has  all  along,  or  at  least  with  few  exceptions,  erred  in  pre- 
cisely the  opposite  direction."  The  Representative  lived  six 
months,  and  cost  its  proprietor  a  sum  variously  reported  at 
20,000/.,  30,000/.,  and  40,000/. 

Free  from  newspaper  writing,  Mr.  Disraeli  wrote  his  first 
novel,  Vivian  Grey,  It  had  a  success;  showj^,  brilliant,  bom- 
bastic, unprincipled,  it  was  read  by  many  who  condemned 
the  abominable  notions  which  it  put  forth.  It  expounded  its 
author's  notions  of  the  way  to  govern  mankind,  which  he  epi- 
grammatised  in  the  phrase,  "  A  smile  for  a  friend,  and  a  sneer 
for  the  world  ;"  wdiile  he  sees  a  profound  truth  for  liuman 
guidance  embodied  in  the  foul  stores  of  heathen  mythology, 
when  '•'  to  govern  men,  even  the  god  appeared  to  feel  as  a  man  ; 
and  sometimes  as  a  beast,  was  apparently  influenced  by  their 
vilest  passions.'^  Two  years  afterwards,  the  author  of  Vivian 
Grey  published  a  dull  sequel  without  any  immoralities  ;  at 
least  so  says  his.  biographer.  This  novel  was  succeeded  by 
another,  Contarini  Fleming,  in  which  it  is  announced  that 
a  cure  of  human  sin  and  trouble  is  to  be  found  in  the  mar- 
riage of  all  youths  at  eighteen  years  of  age. 

In  1832  the  novelist  made  his  first  appearance  as  a  candi- 
date for  Parliament,  standing  for  High  Wycombe,  under  the 
auspices  of  the  Radical  Joseph  Hume.  He  was  beaten  ;  and 
afterwards  stood  for  Marylebone,  avowing  himself,  in  his  ad- 
dress, in  favour  of  triennial  parliaments  and  the  ballot.  He 
was  again  beaten  ;  but  it  was  when  he  stood  for  Taunton,  that 
what  he  had  the  eflTrontery  to  term  his  "  principles"  came  out 


o4S  The  Right  Honourable  Benjamin  Disraeli, 

in  their  true  light.  He  now  called  himself  a  Tory,  and  at- 
tacked O'Connell,  whose  support  he  had  asked,  and  who  had 
actually  composed  a  letter  for  him  when  he  stood  at  High 
Wycombe,  which  letter  he  had  printed  and  placarded  about  the 
streets  by  his  partisans.  But  at  Taunton  O'Connell  was  ia 
bad  odour;  and  therefore,  though  in  December  1834,  Mr. 
Disraeli  had  declared  that  the  very  name  of  tithes  must  be 
instantly  abolished  in  Ireland,  in  April  1835,  he  denounced 
O'Connell  as  a  *'  bloody  traitor." 

"  In  1832,"  writes  the  author  of  the  biography,  "  the  Irish  agi- 
tator's conduct  was  much  more  unconstitutional  than  in  1835  ;  yet 
Mr.  Disraeli  had  at  that  time  even  canvassed  a  constituency  with  a 
printed  recommendation  from  O'Connell,  and  in  1835  upbraided  the 
Whigs  for  having  any  thing  to  do  with  the  Roman  Catholic  cham- 
pion. Even  Mr.  Disraeli's  best  friends  must  admit  that  such  con- 
duct was  inexcusable,  and  that  the  terrible  castigation  he  drew  upon 
himself  was  not  altogether  undeserved.  It  was  surely  not  more 
blamable  in  the  Whigs  to  accept  the  support  of  O'Connell,  than  for 
Mr.  Disraeli  to  ask  the  votes  of  the  Wycombe  electors  through 
O'Connell's  recommendation.  Yet,  on  the  nomination-day  at  Taun- 
ton, he  said,  '  I  look  upon  the  Whigs  as  a  weak  but  ambitious  party, 
who  can  only  obtain  power  by  linking  themselves  to  a  traitor.'  He 
continued,  '  I  ought  to  apologise  to  the  admirers  of  Mr.  O'Connell, 
perhaps,  for  this  hard  language.  I  am  myself  his  admirer,  as  far  as 
his  talents  and  abilities  are  concerned.  But  I  maintain  him  to  be  Jhi 
traitor  ;  and  on  what  authority  ?  On  the  authority  of  that  verjB 
body,  a  distinguished  member  of  whom  is  my  honourable  opponent. . 

"  Mr.  Disraeli  then  enunciated  one  of  those  daring  historical 
paradoxes,    which    are   so    singularly    characteristic    of  the    mai 
*  Twenty  years  ago,'  said  the  I'aunton  Blue  hero,  *  tithes  were  pai^ 
in  Ireland  more  regularly  than  rent  is  in  England  now  !' 

"  Even  his  supporters  appeared  astounded  by  this  declaration. 

"  '  How  do  you  know  V  shouted  an  elector. 

"  '  I  have  read  it,*  replied  Mr.  Disraeli. 

*'  *  Oh,  oh  !'  exclaimed  the  elector. 

"  *  I  know  it,'  retorted  Mr.  Disraeli,  *  because  I  have  read,  an< 
you,'  looking  daggers  at  his  questioner,  '  have  not.' 

*'  This  was  considered  a  very  happy  rejoinder  by  the  friends  of 
the  candidate,  and  was  loudly  cheered  by  the  Blues. 

*'  *  Didn't  you  write  a  novel  ?'  again  asked  the  importunate 
elector,  not  very  much  frightened  even  by  Mr.  Disraeli's  oratorical 
thunder,  and  the  sardonical  expression  on  his  face. 

"  '  I  have  certainly  written  a  novel,'  Mr.  Disraeli  replied  ;  *  but 
I  hope  there  is  no  disgrace  in  being  connected  with  literature.' 

*'  *  You  are  a  curiosity  of  literature,  you  are,'  said  the  humorj 
ous  elector. 

"  '  I  hope,'  said  Mr.  Disraeli,  with  great  indignation,  '  diere 
no  disgrace  in  having  written  that  which  has  been  read  by  hundre( 


The  Right  Honourable  Benjamin  Disraeli.  349 

of  thousands  of  my  fellow-countrymen,  and  which  has  been  trans- 
lated into  every  European  language.  I  trust  that  one  who  is  an 
author  by  the  gift  of  nature  may  be  as  good  a  man  as  one  who  is 
Master  of  the  Mint  by  the  gift  of  Lord  Melbourne.'  Great  ap- 
plause then  burst  forth  from  the  Blues.  Mr.  Disraeli  continued, 
*  I  am  not,  however,  the  puppet  of  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  as  one 
newspaper  has  described  me;  while  a  fellow-labourer  in  the  same 
vineyard  designated  me  the  next  morning,  '  the  Marylebone  Radical.' 
If  there  is  any  thing  on  which  I  figure  myself,  it  is  my  consistency.' 
"  '  Oh,  oh  I'  exclaimed  many  hearers. 

"  '  I  am  prepared  to  prove  it,'  said  Mr.  Disraeli,  with  menacing 
energj'.  *  I  am  prepared  to  prove  it,  and  always  sliall  be,  either  in 
the  House  of  Commons  or  on  the  hustings,  considering  the  satis- 
factory manner  in  which  I  have  been  attacked  ;  but  I  do  not  think 
the  attack  will  be  repeated.' 

"  He  was  mistaken.  The  attack  was  repeated,  and  in  a  style 
which  at  once  drew  the  attention  of  all  the  empire  on  Mr.  Disraeli. 
The  newspapers  containing  the  reports  of  the  proceedings  at  the 
Taunton  election  soon  conveyed  over  to  Ireland  the  abuse  of  O'Con- 
nell  ;  and  came,  of  course,  to  the  knowledge  of  the  man  whom  Mr. 
Disraeli  had  stigmatised  as  a  '  bloody  traitor.'  At  a  meeting  of  the 
Franchise  Association  in  Dublin,  O'Connell  delivered  an  invective 
ao"ainst  his  assailant,  such  as  perhaps  has  never  been  surpassed  for 
its  determined  scolding  and  broad  humour.  *  *  *  * 

'*  '  At  Taunton,'  said  O'Connell,  '  this  miscreant  has  styled  me 
an  incendiary.     Wliy,  I  was  a  greater  incendiary  then  than  I  am  at 
present,  if  I  ever  were  one ;  and  if  I  am  so,   he  is  doubly  so  for 
having  employed  me.     Then  he  calls  me  a  traitor.     My  answer  to 
that  is — he  is  a  liar.     He  is  a  liar  in  action  and  in  words.      His  life 
is  a  living  lie  !'     After  some  more  strong  observations  of  the  same 
kind,  O'Connell  said,  '  Mr.  Disraeli  is  just  the  man  who,  if  Sir  Ro- 
bert Feel  had  been  abroad  when  he  was  called  upon  to  take  office, 
would  have  undertaken  to  supply  his  place.'     Then,  remarking  that 
Mr.  Disraeli  was  descended  from  the  Hebrew  ra-ce,  O'Connell  thus 
concluded   his  elaborate    invective  :    '  Mr.  Disraeli's   name    shows 
that  he  is  a  Jew.     His  father  became  a  convert.     He  is  the  better 
for  that  in  this  world  ;  and  I  hope,  of  course,  he  will  be  the  better 
for  it  in  the  next.     There  is  a  habit  of  underrating  that  great  and 
oppressed  nation,  the  Jews.     They  are  cruelly  persecuted  by  per- 
sons calling  themselves  Christians,  but  no  person  was  ever  yet  a 
Christian  who  persecuted.     The  crudest  persecution  they  suffer  is 
upon  their  character,  by  the  false  names  their  calumniators  bestowed 
upon  them  before  they  carried  their  atrocities  into  effect.      They 
feel  the  persecutions  of  calumny  severer  upon  them  than  the  perse- 
cution of  actual  torture.     1  have  the  happiness  to  be  acquainted 
with   some  Jewish  families   in  London,  and  amongst  them,  more 
accomplished   ladies,   or  more    humane,    cordial,  high-minded,  or 
better-educated  gentlemen,    I  have   never  met.      It   will   not^  be 
supposed,  therefore,  that  when  I  speak  of  Mr.  Disraeli  as  the  de- 


350  The  Right  Honourable  Benjamin  Disraeli. 

scendant  of  a  Jew,  that  I  mean  to  tarnish  him  on  that  account.  Thev 
were  once  the  chosen  people  of  God.  There  were  miscrean' 
amongst  them,  however,  also;  and  it  must  certainly  have  been  froi 
one  of  those  that  Disraeli  is  descended.  He  possesses  just  the  qua- 
lities of  the  impenitent  thief;  whose  name,  I  verily  believe,  must 
have  been  Disraeli.  For  aught  I  know,  the  present  Disraeli  is 
descended  from  him  ;  and  with  the  impression  that  he  is,  I  now  for- 
give the  heir-at-law  of  the  blasphemous  thief  who  died  on  the 
cross.'  " 

To  this  assault  Mr.  Disraeli  published  a  written  repl}^,  tin: 
beginning : 

**  *  Mr.  O'Connell, — Although  yoii  have  long  placed  yourseh 
out  of  the  pale  of  civilisation,  still,  I  am  one  who  will  not  be  in- 
sulted, even  by  a  Yahoo,  without  chastising  it.  When  I  read  this 
morning  in  the  same  journal  your  violent  attack  upon  myself,  an^ 
that  your  son  was  at  the  same  moment  paying  the  penalty  of  similai 
virulence  to  another  individual  on  whom  you  had  dropped  youi 
filth,  I  thought  that  the  consciousness  that  your  opponents  had  ai 
length  discovered  a  source  of  satisfaction  might  have  animated  yoir 
insolence  to  unwonted  energy ;  and  I  called  upon  your  son  to  r^ 
sume  his  vicarious  office  of  yielding  satisfaction  for  his  shrinking 
sire." 

He  also  declared  that  he  had  never  "  deserted  a  politica 
friend,  or  changed  a  political  opinion." 

The  point,  however,  to  which  we  particularly  call  attentioi 
noiv,  when  Mr.  Disraeli  is  likely  to  be  angling  for  Catholic 
support,  is  his  subsequent  conduct  with  reference  to  thesi 
proceedings.  He  was  not  necessarily  a  man  utterly  unwort 
of  trust,  because  he  had  changed  his  opinions;  but  what  is 
be  said  to  the  facts  revealed  in  the  volume  before  us  ? 

**  After  having  addressed  his  elaborate  epistle  to  O'Connell, 
immediately  wrote  another  letter  to  his  son,  expressing  a  hope  th 
as  he  had  endeavoured  to  insult  the  father  to  the  utmost,  the  ins^ 
would  be  resented.  '  I  wished  to  express,'  said  Mr.  Disraeli, 
utter  scorn  in  which  I  hold  your  father's  character,  and  the  disgus 
with  which  his  conduct  inspires  me.  If  I  failed  in  conveying  tbi 
expression  of  my  feelings  to  him,  let  me  now  more  successfully  ex 
press  them  to  you.  I  shall  take  every  opportunity  of  holding  you 
father's  name  up  to  public  contempt ;  and  I  fervently  pray  that  yoi 
or  some  of  his  blood  may  attempt  to  avenge  the  unextinguishabl 
hatred  with  which  I  shall  pursue  his  existence.' 

"  This  letter  was  immediately  published  by  the  gentleman  t 
whom  it  was  addressed.  Mr.  Disraeli  denied  that  he  ever  was  . 
member  of  the  Westminster  Reform  Club.  The  secretary  soon  aft( 
sent  two  of  Mr.  Disraeli's  letters  to  the  Morning  Chronicle ;  and 
plainly  appeared  that  he  had  been  chosen  a  member,  and  had  hi 


The  Right  Honourable  Benjamin  Disraeli,  351 

at  the  club.  Another  letter,  the  authenticity  of  which  was  never 
disputed — nor  were  the  facts  it  asserted  ever  contradicted — was  the 
following  : 

"  To  the  Editor  of  the  Morning  Chronicle, 

"  Sir, — Having  just  read  a  paragraph  in  your  paper,  in  which 
it  is  stated  that  Mr.  Disraeli  had  in  his  speech  to  the  electors  at 
Taunton  denounced  Mr.  O'Connell  as  an  incendiary  and  traitor,  and 
so  forth,  I  beg  leave  to  say  that  I  think  the  learned  author  of 
Vivian  Grey  must  have  been  misrepresented  ;  because  I  can  scarcely 
believe  it  possible  that  he  could  have  applied  such  epithets  to  Mr. 
O'Connell,  of  whom  he  has,  within  the  last  mo?ith,  spoken  to  me  in 
terms  of  the  most  extravagant  admiration;  and  at  the  same  time  re- 
quested me  to  communicate  to  Mr.  O'Connell,  at  the  first  opportu- 
nity, his  kind  remembrance  of  him,  which  I  accordingly  did.  I  have 
the  honour  to  be,  Sir,  your  very  obedient  servant, 

"  Ardsallaghy  May  3d,  1833.  D.  Ronayne." 

The  audacity  with  which  Mr.  Disraeli  had  offered  himself 
at  Taunton  as  a  Tory,  his  declaration  that  he  had  not  stood  at 
High  Wycombe  as  a  Radical,  and  that  he  had  never  changed 
his  opinions,  led  to  some  fierce  attacks  in  the  papers  of  the 
day,  in  the  course  of  which  the  following  letters  were  made 
public.  The  first  was  written  to  a  solicitor  at  Taunton,  who 
had  applied  to  Mr.  Bulwer  for  information  on  the  subject : 

"  London,  July  24,  1835. 

"  Sir, — In  answer  to  your  letter,  I  beg  to  say  that  Mr.  Disraeli 
first  referred  me  to  a  printed  handbill  of  his  own,  espousing  short 
parliaments,  vote  by  ballot,  and  untaxed  knowledge.  I  conceived 
these  principles  to  be  the  pole-star  of  the  sincere  reformers,  and  to 
be  the  reverse  of  Tory  ones.  I  showed  that  handbill  to  Mr.  Hume; 
hence  the  letters  of  that  gentleman  and  of  others. 

"  Mr.  Disraeli  does  not  deny  that  he  professed  those  opinions 
at  that  time;  but  he  has  explained  since  that  he  intended  them  for 
adoption,  not  against  the  Tories,  but  Whigs.  With  this  explana- 
tion I  have  nothing  to  do.  I  question  his  philosophy,  but  I  do  not 
doubt  his  honour. 

"  When  any  man  tells  me  that  he  votes  for  ballot,  short  par- 
liaments, and  the  abolition  of  taxes  on  knowledge,  I  can  only  sup- 
pose him  to  be  a  reformer;  and  such  being  my  principles,  I  would 
always  give  him  ray  support;  and  I  should  never  dream  of  asking 
whether  he  called  himself  a  Radical  or  a  Tory. — I  am,  &c. 

"  To  Edward  Cox,  Esq.  E.  L.  Bulwer." 

The  next  was  written  to  Mr.  Disraeli  by  Mr.  Hume : 

*'  Bryanstone  Square,  June  2,  1832. 
"  Sir, — As  England  can  only  reap  the  benefit  of  reform  by  the 
electors  doing  their  duty  in  selecting  honest,  independent,  and  ta- 


352  The  Right  Honourable  Benjamin  Disraeli, 

lented  men,  I  am  much  pleased  to  learn  from  our  mutual  friend,  Mr. 
E.  L.  Bulvver,  that  you  are  about  to  offer  yourself  as  a  candidate  to 
represent  Wycombe  in  the  new  parliament. 

"  I  have  no  personal  influence  at  tliat  place,  or  I  would  use  it 
immediately  in  your  favour;  but  I  should  liope  the  day  has  arrived 
when  the  electors  will  consider  the  qualifications  of  the  candidates, 
and  in  the  exercise  of  their  franchise  prove  themselves  worthy  of 
the  new  rights  they  will  obtain  by  the  reform. 

"  I  hope  the  reformers  \\\\\  rally  round  you,  who  entertain  libe- 
ral opinions  in  every  branch  of  government,  and  are  prepared  to 
pledge  yourself  to  support  reform  and  economy  in  every  depart- 
ment, as  far  as  the  same  can  be  effected  consistent  with  the  best 
interests  of  the  country. 

*'  I  shall  only  add,  that  I  shall  be  rejoiced  to'see  you  in  the  new 
parliament,  in  the  confidence  that  you  will  redeem  your  pledges,  and 
give  satisfaction  to  your  constituents  if  they  will  place  you  there. — 
Wishing  you  success  in  your  canvass,  I  remain  your  obedient 
servant, 

"  To  B.  Disraeli,  Esq.  Joseph  Hume." 

Now  follows  Mr.  Disraeli's  reply  to  the  above  : 

"  Bradenham  House,  Wycombe,  June  5,  1832. 

"  Sir, — I  have  had  the  honour  and  the  gratification  of  receiving 
your  letter  this  morning.  Accept  my  sincere,  my  most  cordial 
thanks. 

"  It  will  be  my  endeavour  that  you  shall  not  repent  the  cor 
dence  you  have  reposed  in  me. 

"  Believe  me,  sir,  that  if  it  be  my  fortune  to  be  returned  in 
present  instance  to  a  reformed  parliament,  I  shall  remember  wi 
satisfaction  that  that  return  is  mainly  attributable  to  the  inter! 
expressed  in  my  success  by  one  of  the  most  distinguished  and  al 
of  our  citizens. — I  have  the  honour  to  be,  sir,  your  obliged  a^ 
faithful  servant, 

"  Joseph  Hume,  Esq.,  M.P.  B.  Disraeli. 

After  this,  will  any  one  trust  a  man  who  could  thus  a^ 
unless  his  subsequent  conduct  had  shown  a  consciousness  o 
his  past  misdeeds,  and  a  reformation  of  character?  Whethei 
Mr.  Disraeli  is  reformed,  let  the  last  two  years  declare. 

The  political  proceedings  we  have  referred  to  were  diver- 
sified with  the  publication  of  more  novels ;  an  attempt  ai 
poetry,  called  a  Revolutionary  Epic,  and  a  Vindication  of  th 
English  Constitutiony  the  statesmanlike  character  of  whicl 
may  be  estimated  from  the  phrase  applied  to  O'Connel 
whom  Mr.  Disraeli  termed  "  the  very  absurd  and  overrate 
rebel,  vomiting  insolence  in  language  as  mean  as  his  o\ 
soul." 


The  Riglit  Honourable  Benjamin  Disraeli,  o5S 

This  delightful  sentence  reminds  us  of  some  others  of  Mr. 
Disraeli's  "  flowers  of  rhetoric,"  which  his  biographer  has 
culled  from  the  letters  of  "  Runnymede,"  in  which  he  assailed 
Lord  Melbourne's  ministry.  In  these  epistles,  Mr.  Disraeli 
tells  Lord  John  Russell  that  he  was  "  born  with  a  strong  am- 
bition, but  a  feeble  intellect ;"  that  he  is  a  "  miniature  Mo- 
kanna,  exhaling  on  the  constitution  of  his  country  all  the  long- 
hoarded  venom,  and  those  distempers,  that  have  for  j^ears  ac- 
cumulated in  his  petty  heart,  and  tainted  the  current  of  his 
mortified  existence." 

The  letter  to  Lord  Palmerston  is  still  more  dignified  and 
refined.     The  Foreign  Secretary 

"  Is  informed  that  [he  is  '  a  minister  maintaining  himself  in 
power  in  spite  of  the  contempt  of  the  whole  nation,' — *  the  great 
Apollo  of  aspiring  understrappers,'  —  blessed  with  a  '  dexterity 
which  seems  a  happy  compound  of  the  smartness  of  an  attorney's 
clerk  and  the  intrigues  of  a  Greek  of  the  Lower  Empire,' — shows 
'  a  want  of  breeding,' — '  reminds  one  of  a  favourite  footman  on  easy 
terms  with  his  mistress,' —  a  '  Tory  underling,  whose  audacity  in 
accepting  the  seals  of  the  Foreign  Office  is  only  equalled  by  the  im- 
becility of  the  Whigs  in  offering  them  to  such  a  man,'—'  your  lord- 
ship's career  is  as  insignificant  as  your  intellect,' — '  your  crimping 
lordship,' — hopes  that  *  one  silly  head  w'ill  be  added  to  the  heap  of 
destruction  it  has  caused.'  The  epistle  to  Lord  Palmerston  ends 
with  an  apostrophe  to  England  :  '  O  my  country  !  fortunate,  thrice- 
fortunate  England !  with  your  destinies  at  such  a  moment  intrusted 
to  the  Lord  Fanny  of  diplomacy  !  Methinks  I  can  see  your  lord- 
ship, the  Sporus  of  politics,  cajoling  France  with  an  airy  compli- 
ment, and  menacing  Russia  with  a  perfumed  cane !'  '* 

At  last  Mr.  Disraeli  succeeded  in  the  immediate  object  of 
his  desires.  When  Parliament  met  in  the  first  year  of  Queen 
Victoria,  he  sat  for  Maidstone.  We  give  the  account  of 
his  first  speech,  together  with  his  biographer's  judicious  re- 
marks : — 

"  On  the  7th  of  December,  the  adjourned  debate  on  the  Irish 
Election  Petitions  was  resumed.  O'Connell  had  just  delivered  one 
of  his  most  thrilling  speeches,  and  laid  Sir  Francis  Burdett  pros- 
trate in  the  dust ;  the  House  of  Commons  was  in  a  state  of  the 
greatest  excitement, — when  a  singular  figure,  looking  as  pale  as  death, 
with  eyes  fixed  upon  the  ground,  and  ringlets  clustering  round  his 
brow,  asked  the  indulgence  which  was  usually  granted  to  those  who 
spoke  for  the  first  time,  and  of  which  he  would  show  himself  worthy 
by  promising  not  to  abuse  it.  He  then  singled  out  O'Connell,  who, 
he  said,  while  taunting  an  honourable  baronet  with  making  a  long, 
rambling,  and  jumbling  speech,  had  evidently  taken  a  hint  from  his 
opponent,  and  introduced  every  L'ish  question  into  his  rhetorical 

VOL.  I. — NEW  SERIES.  C  C 


354>  The  Right  HonouraUe  Benjamin  Disraeli. 

medley.  Two  or  three  taunts  were  also  directed  at  the  Whigs ; 
who  had  made  certain  intimations  at  clubs  and  elsewhere  about  the 
time  '  when  the  bell  of  our  cathedral  announced  the  death  of  our 
monarch.'  Then  followed  some  of  Mr.  Disraeli's  daring  assertions^ 
which  were  received  with  shouts  of  laughter,  and  loud  cries  of  '  Ohff 
oh  !'  from  the  ministerial  benches.  An  allusion  to  '  men  of  mode- 
rate opinions  and  of  a  temperate  tone  of  mind,'  produced  still  more 
laughter ;  for  it  was  considered  that  such  a  character  was  the  very 
opposite  of  the  individual  who  was  addressing  them.  He  entreated 
them  to  give  him  five  minutes'  hearing  ;  only  five  minutes.  It  was 
not  much.  The  House  then  became  indulgent ;  but  soon  the  shouts 
of  laughter  again  burst  forth,  as  Mr.  Disraeli  went  on  to  say  that  he 
stood  there  not  formally,  but  virtually,  as  the  representative  of  a 
considerable  number  of  members  of  parliament.  *  Then  why  laugh?' 
he  asked  ;  '  why  not  let  me  enjoy  this  distinction,  at  least  for  one 
night  V  It  appeared  that  he  considered  himself  the  representative 
of  the  new  members.  When,  however,  he  spoke  of  the  disagree- 
ment between  '  the  noble  Tityrus  of  the  treasury  bench  and  the 
Daphne  of  Liskeard  ;'  declared  that  it  was  evident  that  this  quarrel 
between  the  lovers  would  only  be  the  renewal  of  love,  and  alluded  to 
Lord  John  Russell  as  waving  the  keys  of  St.  Peter  in  his  hand,  the 
voice  of  the  ambitious  orator  was  drowned  in  convulsions  of  merri- 
ment. '  Now,  Mr.  Speaker,  see  the  philosophical  prejudice  ol 
man  !'  he  ejaculated  with  despair ;  and  again  the  laughter  was  re- 
newed. '  I  would  certainly  gladly,'  said  Mr.  Disraeli,  most  pathe- 
tically, *  hear  a  cheer,  even  though  it  came  from  the  lips  of 
political  opponent.'  No  cheer,  however,  followed  ;  and  he  lli« 
added,  '  I  am  not  at  all  surprised  at  the  reception  I  have  expei 
enced.  I  have  begun  several  times  many  things,  and  I  have  of 
succeeded  at  last.  I  will  sit  down  now;  but  the  time  will  cor 
when  you  will  listen  to  rae!'  He  sat  down  :  Lord  Stanley,  on  tl 
part  of  the  Opposition,  resumed  the  debate,  and  replied  to  O'Cor 
nell ;  for  it  was  thought  that  Mr.  Disraeli's  speech  had  been  a  coi 
plete  failure,  and  that  O'Connell's  address  had  not  been  answerc 
The  ghost  of  the  Caucasian  Caesar  had  really  appeared  at  Philippj 
and  been  scared  away  by  the  jeers  of  the  boisterous  adherents  of  tl 
Milesian  Brutus. 

"  More  than  one  explanation  of  the  failure  of  this  maiden  speech 
has  been  given.  The  critic  who  in  general  has  been  most  favour- 
able to  the  accomplished  master  of  sarcasm,  believes  that  this  first 
speech  was  delivered  in  the  bombastic  style  of  *  Alroy,*  and  that  the 
orator's  failure  was  inevitable.  This  attempt  to  account  for  his 
temporary  defeat,  will  only  be  satisfactory  to  those  who  believe  that 
there  was  a  wonderful  change  in  Mr.  Disraeli's  mental  habits  and 
style  in  future  years.  Now  there  was  nothing  so  remarkably  bom- 
bastic in  this  first  address;  and  it  can  be  easily  shown  that,  even  in 
Mr.  Disraeli's  most  successful  efforts,  there  is  overstrained  language 
which,  even  when  the  orator's  abilities  were  fully  admitted,  pro- 
voked the  laughter  of  the  House  of  Commons.  Some  other  expla- 
nation is  necessary,  and  it  lies  on  the  surface. 


The  Right  Honourable  Benjamin  Disraeli.  355 

*'  Mr.  Disraeli's  individual  appearance  and  style  of  speaking  are 
peculiar.  His  art  lies  in  taking  his  audience  by  surprise,  and  in 
delivering  his  most  successful  points  as  impromptus.  This,  of 
course,  may  be  done  effectually  when  the  speaker  has  a  command 
over  his  hearers,  and  his  intellectual  ascendency  is  allowed  ;  but 
every  orator  has,  more  or  less,  to  prepare  his  audience  for  the  re- 
ception of  his  speeches ;  and  until  this  can  be*  done,  it  is  not  easy  to 
make  a  very  successfid  oratorical  effort.  Mr.  Disraeli  has  so  much 
of  mannerism,  that  it  was  not  to  be  expected  he  could  please  at  his 
first  appearance.  Besides,  it  was  in  the  memory  of  every  body  that 
he  had  made  a  proud  boast  of  seizing  the  first  opportunity  of  crushing 
one  of  the  most  formidable  public  men  of  the  time :  and  with  all 
his  early  follies  thus  prominently  before  the  world,  and  in  presence 
of  many  of  his  great  antagonist's  friends;  alone,  and  unsupported 
even  by  those  who  agreed  with  him  in  opinion,  the  powers  of  De- 
mosthenes would  have  been  unequal  to  such  an  occasion." 

The  latter  portions  of  Mr.  Disraeli's  political  career  are 
too  well  known  to  need  recalling.  For  some  time  he  was  the 
most  fulsome  adherent  of  Sir  Robert  Peel ;  and  would  have 
taken  office  under  him,  as  he  admitted,  if  Sir  Robert  had 
offered  it.  But  Sir  Robert  knew  his  man  from  the  first,  and 
would  not  trust  him.  After  two  years  worship  of  the  minister, 
Mr.  Disraeli  accordingly  turned  round  upon  him,  and  com- 
menced a  series  of  personal  assaults  upon  the  most  self-sacri- 
ficing premier  that  England  has  ever  possessed,  unsurpassed  in 
the  annals  of  Parliamentary  scandal.  Some  people  suppose  that 
Peel  felt  these  viper-bites  severely  ;  we  much  doubt  whether 
he  felt  them  at  all.  For  a  time  he  occasionally  answered  them, 
because  their  cunning  imposed  upon  better  men  ;  but  we  ques- 
tion whether  he  ever  regarded  them  with  more  anxiety  than  a 
noble  horse  feels  for  the  yelping  of  a  savage  dog,  wdiom  one 
hearty  kick  will  send  howling  into  the  wayside  ditch.  The 
moment  Mr.  Disraeli  got  into  office,  he  upheld  the  very  policy 
for  which  he  had  thus  incessantly  attacked  Sir  Robert  Peel, 

Like  every  bully,  Mr.  Disraeli  is  a  coward.  He  dares  not 
attack  a  man  unless  he  is  cheered  on  by  a  crowd  of  reckless 
supporters,  or  unless  he  knows  that  the  assaulted  person  is 
unequal  to  himself  in  debating  power  and  readiness  of  rebuke. 
It  is  many  years  since  he  has  ventured  a  word  of  insinuation 
against  Lord  Palmerston.  He  dares  not  attack  him.  He  did 
so  once,  in  order  to  curry  favour  with  Sir  Robert  Peel ;  and  the 
castigation  he  received  has  proved  so  wholesome  a  warning, 
that  since  then.  Lord  Palmerston  is  the  only  man  opposed  to 
him  who  has  not  been,  at  one  time  or  other,  the  object  of  his 
insolent  personalities.  We  question  whether  he  would  ven- 
ture to  offend  the  versatile  secretary  even  with  his  flatteries. 
The  character  of  Mr.  Disraeli's  rhetoric  is  easily  described. 


356  Our  Picture  in  the  Census, 

His  favourite  trick,  by  which  he  passes  himself  off  for  a  philo- 
sopher and  a  statesman,  is  to  take  some  universally  known 
word,  phrase,  or  historical  event,  and  fasten  upon  it  an  in- 
terpretation never  dreamt  of  before.  On  this  impudent  as- 
sumption he  builds  some  vast  fabric,  while  his  dupes  are  amazed 
that  such  wonderful  truths  have  never  before  been  discovered ; 
and  clever  men,  ivliose  dupe  he  is,  are  amused  with  the  inge- 
nuity, which  serves  their  purposes  quite  as  well  as  Mr.  Dis- 
raeli's. Vie  are  persuaded  that,  if  Mr.  Disraeli  were  to  take 
it  into  his  head  to  re-edit  Euclid's  Elements,  on  the  first  page 
we  should  learn  that  it  is  quite  a  mistake  to  suppose  that  a 
straight  line  is  the  shortest  distance  from  one  point  to  another. 
This  trick  he  repeats  over  and  over  again,  with  innumera- 
ble variations.  In  fact,  if  his  speeches  are  carefully  analysed, 
it  will  be  found  that  they  consist  almost  entirely  of  two  ele- 
ments, viz.  new  interpretations,  often  very  ingenious,  on  every 
thing  that  can  bear  on  the  subject  of  which  he  is  treating ;  and 
fierce,  sarcastic  personalities.  He  fights  with  the  assassin's 
weapons,  disguises  and  daggers. 

Of  his  later  novels,  which  are  by  far  his  best,  we  cannot 
now  say  any  thing ;  but  shall  probably  call  attention  to  a  few 
of  their  curiosities  in  our  next.  In  the  meantime,  we  suggest 
to  the  author  of  the  valuable  biography  of  this  brilliant  ad- 
venturer, that  if  his  book  reaches  the  second  edition  which  it 
really  deserves,  he  should  use  the  pruning-knife  with  consi- 
derable freedom. 


OUK  PICTUEE  IN  THE  CENSUS. 

Census  of  Great  Britain,  1851.     Religious  Worship  in  Eng\ 
land  and  Wales.     Report  and   Tables  presented  to  ho 
Houses  of  Parliament,  hy  Command  of  her  Majesty,  18531 
(Second  Notice.) 

Every  body  is  fond  of  pictures.  If  you  go  to  the  National 
Gallery  in  Trafalgar  Square  any  day  when  it  is  open  to  the 
public,  you  will  see  all  kinds  of  people  there :  some  looking 
at  the  religious  pictures,  some  looking  at  the  irreligious  pic- 
tures ;  some  with  one  degree  of  admiration,  some  with  other 
degrees  of  admiration ;  many  with,  many  more  without,  the 
artistic  eye  and  taste;  but  all  more  or  less  amused  and  in- 
structed, benefited  or  injured.  In  our  own  time,  pictorial 
teaching  bids  fair  to  keep  pace  with  every  other.  Even  cliil- 
dren  are  seduced  into  the  alphabet  by  embellishments  of  let- 
ters unknown  to  an  earlier  and  less  reading  age.     Not  to  be 


Our  Picture  in  the  Census,  357 

out  of  die  fasliion,  therefore,  we  propose  to  open  a  picture- 
gallery  ourselves,  in  opposition,  not  to  Trafalgar  Square,  but 
to  the  registrar-general's  office.  We  do  not  Avish  to  take  an 
unfair  advantage,  and  therefore  our  pictures  will  all  be  by 
native  artists, — artists  not  unknown  to  fame.  We  open  our 
gallery  with  the  fullest  confidence  of  eclipsing  our  rival  esta- 
blishment ;  and  we  respectfully  solicit  the  attendance  of  all 
"  the  Christian  churches,"  of  Mr.  Horace  Mann,  and  of  Dr. 
Maltby.  Let  us,  by  all  means,  have  the  countenance  of  faiths, 
figures,  and  finance. 

No.  1.  By  the  Hon.  and  Rev.  Sydney  Godolphin  Osborne. 
Subject :  The  visitation  of  an  Anglican  Protestant  bishop.  It 
first  appeared  in  the  Times  of  November  o,  1852: 

"  Once  in  three  years  we  have  a  visitation  ;  we  are  summoned 
to  a  neighbouring  town  to  meet  the  bishop ;  we  follow  him  to  a 
morning  service  in  the  church,  and  hear  one  of  our  brethren  preach 
a  controversial  sermon.  Our  names  are  then  called  over ;  we  stand 
before  the  communion-rails,  within  which  the  bishop  sits  ;  he,  from 
his  chair,  proceeds  to  read  a  long  essay  on  church  matters  in  gene- 
ral, his  own  views  regarding  them,  and  the  particular  legal  measures 
on  church  matters  which  have  been  passed  since  the  last  visitation, 
or  which  may  be  expected  before  the  next.  We  receive  his  bless- 
ing, and  disperse — until  the  hour  of  dinner.  This  space  of  time  is 
spent  by  the  clergy  in  general  either  at  the  bookseller's  shop-door, 
discussing  the  charge  and  the  sermon,  or  in  taking  a  walk  into  the 
country.  A  small  knot,  however,  generally  contrive  to  get  quietly 
together,  and  with  the  bishop's  chaplain,  determine  as  to  the  policy 
of  certain  contemplated  measures  of  clerical  agitation,  to  either 
commence  or  be  furthered  a  stage  by  the  getting  petitions  signed 
at  the  dinner. 

"  The  bishop  in  the  meantime  sees  some  half-dozen  curates  or 
new  rectors,  to  whom  he  wishes  to  put  some  commonplace  inquiries, 
or,  perhaps,  to  administer  some  gentle  rebuke  ;  he  then  takes  up 
the  inn  Times,  and  waits  with  patience  the  hour  of  tlie  next  stage  of 
the  visitation — the  dinner.  At  last  all  are  seated  wMio  intend  to  dine 
with  the  bishop;  poor  curates  and  indifferent  rectors  are  gone  home, 
— the  former  cannot  aftbrd  to  dine,  the  latter  it  would  bore ;  they 
know  the  routine  by  heart,  and  gladly  avoid  its  repetition  in  their 
own  presence.  The  chaplain  and  the  preacher,  and  some  of  the 
rural  deans,  are  the  bishop's  neighbours  ;  the  dinner  is  an  inn 
dinner,  and  in  general  a  very  good  one  ;  at  its  conclusion  the  waiter 
comes  round  for  its  cost — 85.  ;  the  rural  deans  come  for  the  con- 
tribution to  the  Clergy  Widow  Fund — IO5.  The  bishop's  health  is 
drunk,  and  he  is  thanked  for  his  admirable  charge,  and  requested 
to  print  it;  he  is  modest  in  his  reply,  and  acquiesces.  If  the  chap- 
lain's sermon  has  been  very  strong  either  way,  his  friends  stay  to 
dinner ;  when  his  health  is  drunk,  they  request  him  also  to  print ; 
he  blushes,  diinks  how  it  will  please  his  wife,  and  consents.  After 
some  small  ecclesiastical  talk  at  the  episcopal  end  of  die  table,  and 


358  Our  Picture  in  the  Census. 

some  good  stories  from  the  secretary  at  his  end,  relished  by  his 
less  awed  neighbours,  a  petition  or  two  for  or  against  something  is 
handed  round,  and  gets  a  few  signatures  ;  the  bishop  rises,  bows  to 
all,  and  goes  away  for  another  three  years.  A  neat  London-built 
brougham,  with  his  lordship  and  the  chaplain  inside,  the  episcopal 
mace  in  the  sword-case,  and  his  butler,  who  has  acted  as  mace- 
bearer,  on  the  box,  soon  takes  out  of  the  sight  of  the  assembled 
clergy  and  the  boys  in  the  street  their  right  rev.  chief  and  coun- 
sellor. 

"  Tlie  clergy  get  into  their  *  four-wheels'  and  go  home.  Rural 
dean  Rubricus  tells  Mrs.  R.  *  The  charge  was  able,  but  evasive.  He 
wants  courage,  my  dear,  to  speak  all  he  feels  about  our  need  of  Con- 
vocation. The  sermon  was  a  sad  exposure  ;  a  Dissenter  might  have 
preached  it.'  The  Rev.  C.  Lowvein,  rector  of  Gorhamville,  tells 
Mrs.  L.,  with  a  sigh,  '  The  charge  was  able  ;  his  lordship  is  very 
clever,  but  it  was  very  unsound.  It  is  evident  he  leans  towards 
Exeter.  But,  my  dear,  we  cannot  be  too  thankful ;  Octavius  Free- 
son  preached  the  truth  as  boldly  as  if  he  was  on  the  platform  of  a 
C.  M.  meeting  :  we  have  asked  him  to  print  it.'  Dr.  Oldtime,  the 
aged  rector  of  Slowstir,  tells  his  curate  the  next  day,  '  It  was  a  slow, 
dull  business  ;  the  bishop  prosed,  the  preacher  ranted,  the  Red  Lion 
sherry  has  given  me  a  headache.' 

*'  My  sketch  is  that  of  an  ordinary  diocese,  with  an  ordinafy  - 
bishop.     In  an  extraordinary  diocese,  with  an  ultra  Anglo-Catholic 
ritualistic  bishop,  there  would  be  some  alteration  in  the  details.     A 
communion  at  the  church  ;   a  sermon  on  symbolical  architecture  < 
consubstantiation;  a  charge  full  of  invective  against  latitudinarianisn 
i.  e.  every  thing  which  is  not  church  first ;  a  deploring  of  the  d< 
generacy  of  the  day,  and  imploring  the  accession  of  a  time  whe 
the  Church  should  be  purged  of  untrusting  children,  have  her  q\ 
Convocation,  and  by  her  synodical  action  repress  schism  and  at 
vance  her  pure  apostolical  system,  &c.     At  the  dinner  the  clerg 
would  be  dressed  like  Roman  Catholic  priests  ;   the  waiters  lib 
orthodox  Protestant  parsons.     So  far  as  any  real  useful  end  beir 
answered  by  the  occasion,  there  would  be  little  difference  betwee 
the  two  visitations." 

Our  siglit-seers  will  have  been  struck,  of  course,  with  th 
admirable  handling  of  this  picture.  The  broad,  genial  chi 
racter  of  English  life,  brought  out  with  touches  which  coul 
only  be  made  by  one  who  had  lived  in  its  centre.  We  pre 
pose  to  describe  it  in  our  catalogue  as  Reformed  Protestm 
Episcopacy ;  and  it  should  be  immediately  followed  by 
small,  but  very  striking  cabinet  group,  into  which  the  sai 
characters  are  introduced,  but  in  different  costume.  Th 
artist  is  our  incomparable  friend  in  Printing-house  Square 
who  published  it  to  the  world  on  September  10,  1853,  o^ 
occasion  of  a  circumstance  which  we  need  not  stop  to  mentioi 
"but  which  was  then  exciting  a  good  deal  of  remark. 

**  We  conceive  that  it  is  not  our  place  to  suggest  how  the  thin^ 


Oar  Picture  in  the  Census.  359 

should  be  clone;  for  it  must  be  the  interest  of  the  bishops  them- 
selves either  to  divest  themselves  of  a  seeming  responsibility,  or  to 
obtain  that  the  fact  shall  correspond  to  the  appearance.  Surely,  they 
ought  to  feel  something — we  will  not  call  it  shame — but  whatever  is 
the  corresponding  emotion  in  episcopal  bosoms,  and  colour  in  epis- 
copal cheeks,  at  being  perched  up,  session  after  session,  in  the 
House  of  Lords,  all  the  time  going  through  solemn  farces,  and 
making  no  attempt  whatever  to  be  real  personages.  Many  people 
wonder  and  wonder  why  on  earth  the  Bishops  sit  in  the  House  of 
Lords,  evening  after  evening,  as  mute  as  the  rows  of  well  be-wigged 
faces  in  our  hairdressers'  windows." 

No.  S,  which  makes  the  pair,  was  published  by  the  same 
artist  on  the  28th  January  in  the  present  year,  and  represents 
a  lower  grade  of  the  same  ecclesiastical  hierarchy. 

"  What  in  the  world  are  our  clergy  made  for,  if  they  cannot 
undertake  the  religious  education  of  their  young  parishioners? 
Heaven  knows,  their  work  is  light  enough  in  these  days!  They 
have  no  five  o'clock  masses — no  morning  and  evening  prayers — no 
two  hours  of  breviary — no  tedious  routine  of  ceremonies  all  the  day, 
and  any  hour  of  the  day,  or  niglit  too,  wherever  they  may  be  called. 
If  they  can  do  any  thing  with  ease,  pleasure,  and  a  perfectly  safe  con- 
science, it  is  the  rehgious  instruction  of  their  young  parishioners — 
a  duty  which,  widi  much  zeal,  unction,  and  regard  to  their  personal 
comfort,  they  are  now  for  throwing  on  the  public  money,  and  upon  what 
many  of  them  describe  as  a  profane  and  anti-Christian  legislature." 

Our  friends  will  not  be  surprised,  after  having  mastered 
the  details  of  these  interesting  pieces,  when  we  conduct  them 
to  another,  not  a  composition,  but  an  actual  passage  of  real 
life.  Probably  some  of  the  party  may  consider  it  a  con- 
sequence of  the  state  of  things  which  is  the  subject  of  Mr. 
Osborne's  brilliant  composition.  The  Protestant  oracle  of  the 
Established  Church,  in  speaking  of  the  Sacrament  of  Penance 
(with  a  "  commonly  called"  before  it),  describes  it  as  being 
one  of  those  which  "  have  grown  partly  of  the  corrupt  follow- 
ing of  the  apostles,  partly  are  states  of  life  allowed  in  the 
Scriptures."  We  hang  up  our  No.  4,  which  we  borrow  from 
the  West  of  England  Conservative y  and  Plymouth  aiid  Devon- 
port  Advertiser  ^  of  May  17,  1849,  in  illustration  at  once  of 
Protestant  doctrine,  use,  and  application. 

"  Disgraceful  Scene  in  a  Church. — A  gardener,  named 
Smith,  having  uttered,  at  a  village  public-house,  certain  expres- 
sions defamatory  of  the  character  of  Mrs.  James,  the  wife  of  the 
Rector  of  Fen-]3itton,  was  condemned  by  the  Court  of  Arches  to 
'  do  penance'  in  the  church  of  that  parish,  and  to  pay  the  costs  of 
the  proceedings.  The  *  penance'  was  decreed  by  the  court  to  be 
performed  on  Saturday  week,  and  an  eye-witness  thus  describes 
the  scene: 


360  Our  Picture  in  the  Census, 

"  Long  before  the  commencement  of  service,  the  churchyard  was 
crowded;  and  on  the  doors  being  opened,  a  rusli  took  place  into  the 
edifice,  every  available  spot  of  which  was  occupied  in  less  than  five 
minutes.  The  screen  was  covered  by  men  (bargees)  sitting  astride; 
even  the  capitals  of  the  pillars  were  occupied;  and  the  majority  of 
the  audience  were  standing  upon  the  seats,  and  fighting  for  places. 
The  Rev.  A.  H.  Small,  of  Emanuel  College,  Cambridge,  who  had  un- 
dertaken to  do  duty  for  the  rector  on  the  occasion,  entered  the 
church  at  eleven  o'clock,  followed  by  Mr.  and  Mrs.  James,  who 
took  their  seats  in  the  rector's  pew.  No  sooner  had  Mr.  Small 
commenced,  than  he  was  saluted  with  a  shout  of '  Speak  up,  old 
boy,'  and  a  chorus  of  laughter;  and  similar  interruptions  were  con- 
tinued throughout.  The  hymns  were  omitted,  by  the  rector's  especial 
request  to  Mr.  Small,  during  the  service;  and  after  the  conclusion 
of  the  prayers,  Mr.  Small  ascended  the  pulpit,  and,  taking  his  text 
from  Matthew  vii.  1,  'Judge  not,  lest  ye  be  judged,'  delivered 
an  impressive  discourse,  interrupted  by  the  breaking  of  windows 
by  the  mob  outside,  cat-calls,  whistles,  laughter,  and  other  un- 
seemly noises,  which  increased  as  he  proceeded ;  until  his  voice  was 
finally  drowned,  partly  by  the  noise  inside  and  partly  by  that  out- 
side, consequent  upon  a  dog-fight  which  had  been  got  up  in  the 
churchyard.  Several  parties  were  also  smoking  in  the  church  during 
this  time.  At  last,  the  appearance  of  Smith  was  announced  by  « 
shout  from  the  parties  outside,  which  put  a  complete  stop  to  the 
sermon.  Smith  was  received  on  entering  the  church  with  three 
hearty  cheers,  clapping  of  hands,  whoops,  and  other  discorda 
sounds.  So  great  was  the  press,  that  he  had  to  be  lifted  into  th 
churchwarden's  pew,  where  he  was  mounted  on  a  hassock,  on 
seat  immediately  facing  the  pew  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  James.  Qui 
"Was  now  in  some  degree  restored  by  Smith  waving  over  his  he 
the  paper  from  which  he  was  to  read  his  recantation,  and  Mr.  Small 
made  several  attempts  to  continue  his  discourse;  but  was  as  oftei 
met  by  cries  of  *  Smith,  Smith,  one  cheer  more  for  Smith,'  the  sai 
cheer  being  most  heartily  given,  and  Smith  as  often  calling  '  silem 
for  the  minister.'  The  uproar  continuing,  Smith  asked  Mr.  Ken 
one  of  the  churchwardens,  what  was  to  be  done,  saying,  *  You  see' 
what  a  state  the  church  is  in;  you  know  what  is  best;  I  am  your 
prisoner,  and  will  do  as  you  think  proper.'  At  this  moment  a 
broom  was  hurled  across  the  church,  and  fell  within  a  yard  of 
the  pulpit ;  then  came  a  hassock,  then  another ;  the  pews  were 
broken,  and  the  pieces,  as  well  as  hassocks,  flung  in  all  directions. 
Mr.  Small  had  by  this  time  descended  from  the  pulpit,  and  placed 
himself  close  to  Smith,  for  the  purpose  of  listening  to  liis  recanta- 
tion; but  from  the  noise,  it  was  impossible  to  hear  a  word  Smith 
said.  The  pulpit  had  meanwhile  been  occupied  by  spectators,  wh 
remained  there  to  the  end  of  the  proceedings.  At  last  a  hassoc 
struck  Mr.  Small,  while  Smith,  who  had  just  concluded  reading  hi 
recantation,  moved  out  of  the  pew  to  leave  the  church.  He  was  a 
once  taken  up  by  the  mob,  amidst  shouts  of  '  Bravo,  Smith ;  we 


i 


Our  Picture  in  the  Census.  361 

done,  Smith,'  and  tlie  most  hearty  cheers;  and  carried  on 'men's 
shoulders  to  the  Plough,  where  he  was  called  upon  for  a  speech ; 
when  he  stated  that  he  had  formerly  been  under-gardener  at  the 
rectory;  and  that  while  he  was  there,  the  body  of  a  child  was  found 
buried  in  the  garden,  and  the  head,  which  had  been  severed  there- 
from, in  another  part.  Mrs.  James  had,  he  said,  accused  him  of 
bringing  this  body  from  the  churchyard  for  scandalous  purposes, 
and  the  consequence  was  that  he  had  been  out  of  work  ever  since. 
The  observation  made  by  him  with  regard  to  Mrs.  James  was,  he 
said,  made  in  a  tap-room,  when  he  was  half-drunk  and  half-foolish; 
and  was  conveyed  by  a  meddling  constable  to  Mr.  James.  On  his 
way  through  the  village,  the  inhabitants  rushed  out  to  shake  hands 
with  him;  and  the  Plough  was  filled  with  his  admirers,  who  con- 
sumed the  remainder  of  the  afternoon  in  smoking  and  drinking. 
Throughout  the  day  a  collection  was  going  on  through  the  village 
by  men  with  boxes,  in  May-day  fashion,  calling  out,  '  Please  to 
remember  Smith;'  the  object  being  to  assist  him  in  the  payment 
of  his  costs.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  James,  on  the  other  hand,  were  hooted 
on  their  exit  from  the  church,  and  followed  by  a  mob  to  the 
rectory-house,  some  of  the  windows  of  which  were  broken  with 
stones.  Tlie  following  is  a  copy  of  Smith's  recantation  : — '  Whereas 
I,  Edward  Smith,  having  uttered  and  spoken  certain  scandalous 
and  opprobrious  words  against  Martha  James,  wife  of  the  Rev. 
William  Brown  James,  clerk,  Rector  of  Fen-Ditton,  in  the  county  of 
Cambridge,  to  the  great  offence  of  Almighty  God  and  the  scandal 
of  the   Christian  religion,  and  to  the  injury  and   reproach  of  my 

neighbour's  credit  and  reputation,  by  culling  her  a ,  and  using 

other  defamatory  words  of  and  against  her, — I  therefore,  before 
God  and  you,  humbly  confess  and  acknowledge  such  my  offence, 
and  that  I  am  heartily  sorry  for  the  same,  and  do  ask  forgiveness; 
and  do  promise  hereafter  never  to  offend  in  like  manner,  God 
assisting  me.'  " 

We  pass  on  to  a  set  of  pictures  of  Protestant  life,  as  it  is 
exhibited  in  its  more  ordinary  phases  in  Protestant  Islington. 
The  original  appeared  as  an  advertisement  in  the  Times  of 
December  17,  1852;  and  the  numbers  attached  are  not  those 
of  our  catalogue,  but  those  which  appeared  in  the  Times, 
Moreover,  we  have  to  inform  our  sight-seeing  party,  that 
No.  S,  in  this  catalogue,  is  not  the  same  as  that  which  ap- 
peared in  the  catalogue  furnished  by  the  same  paper  in  the 
previous  month  of  May.  That  of  INIay  was  so  unusually 
dreadful,  that  by  December  even  the  Islington  people  thought 
iit  to  put  another  in  its  place.     We  shall  not  reproduce  it, 

"  Read  and  reflect. — The  district  of  All  Saints,  Islington,  with 
a  population  of  nearly  20,000,  had  until  lately  but  one  Church  (con- 
taining 1,116  sittings),  a  Sunday  School,  and  one  Infant  School, 
built  for  the  accommodation  of  150  children.     As  might  be  expected. 


S62  Our  Picture  in  the  Census. 

therefore,  socialism,  infidelity,  rationalism,  and  indifference,  prevail 
in  every  quarter  to  a  fearful  extent. 

"  This  densedarkness  is  further  stimulated  by  the  ceaseless  efforts 
of  evil  men.  Pamphlets  and  tracts  are  freely  distributed  in  the 
district,  in  which  the  inspired  Books  of  Moses  are  called  con- 
temptuously *  the  foolish  and  obscure  records  of  a  small,  remote, 
and  barbarous  Eastern  tribe,'  and  religion  is  proscribed  as  a  fruit 
ful  source  of  *  insanity  and  suicide.'  God,  immortality,  and  hell,  ar 
ridiculed  as  mere  creations  of  the  fancy,  and  '  every  man's  life'  i 
claimed  as  '  his  own  property.' 

"  The  following  extracts  from  the  memoranda  of  the  clergy  antl 
Scripture  readers,  show  the  harvest  which  such  seed  has  already 
produced : 

"  1. has  been  to  church  twice  in  eighteen  years  ;   spend 

Sunday  in  a  beershop.  Occasionally  a  Bible  is  produced,  thai 
passages  which  are  apparently  opposed  to  each  other  may  be  com- 
pared. An  appeal  is  then  made  to  the  party  whether  such  a  bool 
can  be  from  God,  and  it  is  condemned  as  '  a  pack  of  lies.' 

"  2.  None  of  our  family  attend  church.  We  are  such  a  bias 
pheming  set  that  it  would  be  of  no  use. 

"  3  There's  no  convertinsc  «roing  on  here;   we're  too  hard 

stuff  to  be  worked  on. 

"  4.  You  are  too  idle  to  work  for  an  honest  livelihood,  and  s 
go  about  preaching  a  parcel  of  infernal  lies  about  Jesus  Christ. 

"  5.  considers  religion  beneath  his  notice,  a  '  bug-a-boo 

to  frighten  weak-minded  people  widi. 

"  6.  God  couldn't  have  loved  his  Son  much,  to  have  given 
up  to  such  sufferings.      He  can't  take  my  heart  out  of  my  body, 
give  me  a  new  one.     When  I  die  I  shall  be  put  in  a  box,  and  the 
be  an  end  of  me. 

"  7.  had  no  time  for  gossip.     Be  off  to  all  those  old  fo( 

who   have   nothing   else    to    amuse   themselves   with    than    talk' 
about  religion.     She  then  slammed  the  door  in  ray  face. 

"  8.  had   been   to  church   twice  in  his  life — once  to 

baptised,  and  once  to  be  married;  and  he  should  come  but  oi 
more — to  be  buried. 

"  9.  We  poor  creatures  have  too  much  misery  to  endure  h 
for  God  to  think  of  punishing  us  hereafter.  Let's  hope  that  then 
no  such  dismal  work  as  weeping  and  gnashing  of  teeth  in  the  ne- 
world. 

**  10.  *  You're  so  tough,  you'll  never  die,'  were  the  words  i 
which addressed  his  suffering  wife." 

The  "  Clerkenwell  Church-extension  and  Spiritual-relit 
Committee"  oblige  us  with  our  next  picture  of  domestic  h* 
tory,  in  an  advertisement  in  the  I^imes,  December  10,  18i 
with  some  of  the  usual  names  at  the  top.     It  stands  No. 
the  catalogue  of  our  gallery. 

"  Although  the  physical  and  moral  wretchedness  of  this  pai 


■boo 

j 


Oar  Picture  in  the  Census,  363 

is  vouched  and  deplored  by  authors  of  the  most  opposite  sentiments, 
and  by  impartial  witnesses,  as  may  be  seen  in  the  columns  of  the 
Times  for  November,  the  Illustrated  News^  and  in  the  pages  of  the 
work  of  Mr.  Vanderkiste,  who  for  six  years  traversed  its  dens, 
its  garrets,  and  cellars,  by  day  and  by  night,  and  although  it  is 
testified  by  the  most  experienced  of  the  London  population,  that 
parts  of  Clerkenwell  exceed  in  ignorance  and  depravity  any  other 
place  know^n  to  them, —  yet  to  this  hour  no  adequate  remedy  has  been 
applied  for  this  appalling  state  of  things. 

"  One  of  the  above. authors  has  thus  described  it:  'In  Clerken- 
well there  is  grovelling,  starving  poverty;  in  Clerkenwell  broods  the 
darkness  of  utter  ignorance;  the  burglar  has  his  '  crib'  in  Clerken- 
well; the  pick-pocket  has  his  mart;  and  the  ragged  Irish  hodman 
vegetates  in  the  filth  of  his  three-pair  back. 

"  The  Committee,  after  this  recital  of  facts — and  very  many  more 
of  deeper  degradation  could  readily  be  adduced — while  they  gratefully 
acknowledge  the  valuable  but  partial  labours  of  others,  venture  to 
invite  the  Ciiristian  public,  in  all  its  grades,  to  aid  them  in  apply- 
ing the  true  and  only  remedy,  viz.  the  Gospel  of  the  blessed  God 
(Tit.  ii.  11,  12),  through  the  medium  of  tlieir  own  scriptural  Church ; 
cheered  and  encouraged  as  they  have  been  by  the  prompt  contri- 
bution and  counsel  of  their  Diocesan,  who,  being  fully  alive  to  this 
sore  spot  in  his  vast  charge,  will  assist  the  Committee  by  all  means 
in  his  lordship's  power,  as  will  also  the  other  authorities." 

Poets  and  painters  have,  from  immemorial  prescription,  a 
certain  license  of  lying.     Horace  jauntily  says  : 

"  Quidlibet  audendi  semper  fuit  sequa  potestas  ;" 
but  he  qualifies  his  dispensation  with  : 

**  dabiturque  licentia  sumpta  pudenter.*' 

Now,  agreeing,  as  we  do  entirely,  in  the  truth,  strength, 
and  rendering  of  nature  in  its  most  unhappy  and  pitiable 
shape,  here  put  before  us,  we  take  exception  to  two  features 
in  the  picture.  First,  the  Irish  hodman  whom  poverty,  from 
ancient  confiscation  and  modern  eviction,  has  driven  to  work 
in  London  and  to  live  as  London  poor  do,'although  a  hodman, 
is  not  a  burglar,  nor  even  a  Protestant.  If  he  is  driven  into 
those  unfortunate  haunts  which  London  Protestantism  and 
London  luxury  have  made  for  the  bodies  of  those  souls  which 
Vanderkiste  makes  the  late  Mr.  Bickersteth  describe  as 
"  butchered,"  he,  at  all  events^  does  not  share  interiorly 
their  pollution.  It  was  not  from  Catholic  lips  that  the  Isling- 
ton vagrants  heard  those  unspeakably  detestable  answers  to 
which  they  invite  us  for  reading  and  reflection.  Nor,  in 
Clerkenwell,  can  these  people  who  appeal  for  public  support 
dare  to  say  that  the  criminals  are  Catholics.  In  their  eyes 
the  religion  of  Jesus   Christ  is    itself  a  crime.     But,   dearly 


36  i  Our  Picture  in  the  Census, 

as  they  would  love  to  connect  it  witli  the  crimes  which  th 
perishing  multitudes,  whom  their  sham  pastors  have  so  loii^i 
neglected,  daily  commit,  they  cannot  do  it.  For  the  true  pic 
ture  of  the  religious  habits  of  the  Irish  in  London,  formin; 
so  bright  a  contrast  to  the  irreligion,  brutality,  and  immoralit; 
confessed  and  depicted  by  the  patrons  of  Islington  and  Clerk 
enwell  Protestantism,  we  refer  the  reader  to  Mr.  Mayhew' 
London  Labour  and  London  Poor,  and  to  the  article  upon  i 
which  appeared  in  our  own  pages  in  April  1851;  as  also  t 
the  very  interesting  and  important  letters  which  have  bee 
recently  published  by  the  Rev.  J.  Kyne.  Our  second  excep 
tion  to  the  picture.  No.  6,  is  to  the  manner  of  applying  wha 
these  gentlemen  describe  as  the  only  true  remedy,  "the  Gos 
pel  of  the  blessed  God,  through  the  medium  of  their  owi 
scriptural  Church."  This  remedy,  such  as  it  is,  has  been  ii 
their  hands  for  the  last  three  hundred  years.  What  hav 
they  been  doing  all  this  time  ?  Clerkenwell  and  Isling 
ton  have  been  parishes,  according  to  law,  ever  since  the 
ceased  to  be  Catholic.  How  came  all  these  abominatioi 
to  exist  unchecked  and  undiscovered,  except  by  the  police 
until  now  ?  The  language,  for  example,  with  regard  to  hoi 
Scripture  in  Islington,  is  quite  as  bad  as  was  ever  heard  o 
written ;  but  how^  did  the  Scriptures  come  to  be  so  viewed 
after  so  many  evangelical  generations  in  Islington  ?  How  is  i 
that  "  Our  scriptural  Church"  didn't  stop  this  enormou 
vilification  of  God,  at  least  before  it  came  to  its  presen 
height  ?  We  don't  the  least  mean  to  say  that  we  approve,  ■ 
indeed  understand,  the  stupid  absurdity  of  the  expression,  ^' 
scriptural  Church  ;"  but  if  it  means  any  thing,  it  means  sonic 
thing  about  the  letter  and  purpose  of  holy  Scripture; 
here  are  its  fruits.  But,  further,  in  this  matter  are  th( 
heathen  at  Islington  a  bit  more  radically  wrong  in  their  ei 
mate  of  holy  Scripture  than  Conyers  Middleton,  whom 
quoted  in  our  last  number?  If  they  describe  the  inspire( 
books  of  Moses  as  "  the  foolish  and  obscure  records  of  a  small 
remote,  and  barbarous  Eastern  tribe,"  and  the  whole  Bible  gene 
rally  as  a  ''pack  of  lies,"  how  can  they  be  blamed,  when  "  th< 
Rev.  and  learned  Conyers  Middleton,"  an  unrebuked  ministe 
of  their  own  Establishment,  has,  with  all  the  authority  of  hi 
position  and  learning,  denounced  the  inspired  history  of  the  Fal 
of  Man  as  fabulous.  It  is  true  that  Conyers  Middleton  wro' 
with  the  elegance  of  a  scholar,  and  that  he  gives  the  lie  i 
God  in  a  manner  not  shocking  from  its  impoliteness.  Bu 
want,  dirt,  and  the  stinks  of  courts,  the  air  of  Saffron  Hil 
and  the  experience  of  the  contents  of  the  Fleet-ditch,  are  no 
favourable  to  politeness  arid  a  refinement  of  manner.     Undt 


1 


Our  Picture  in  the  Census.  o55 

similar  circumstances,  that  is  to  say,  in  a  back  court  in  Isling- 
ton or  Clerkenwell,  Conyers  Middleton  would  possibly  not 
have  favoured  the  world  with  so  urbane  an  account  of  his 
anti-Mosaic  views.  The  actual  occupants  of  those  places 
have  only  translated  into  their  full,  true,  and  unvarnished 
sense,  the  pestilent  scepticisms  of  Conyers  Middleton,  and  a 
thousand  others  of  his  contemporaries. 

We  except,  therefore,  with  all  our  hearts,  not  only  as  Ca- 
tholics, but  as  mere  men  of  the  world,  as  men  of  common 
sense,  to  the  contemptible  remedy  which  they  propose,  that 
travestie  of  the  Gospel  which  their  so-called  "  scriptural 
Church"  has  been  presenting  for  three  hundred  years,  with 
results  sufficiently  expressive  of  the  anger  of  Almighty  God. 
And  we  assure  them,  without  the  slightest  hesitation  or  doubt, 
that,  in  spite  of  tracts,  open  Bibles  interpreted  by  all  the 
"  Churches"  of  the  census,  and  any  amount  of  Scripture- 
readers  besides,  they  will  never  succeed  in  converting  the  inha- 
bitants of  these  "  dens,  garrets,  and  cellars,''  to  their  views,  if, 
that  is  to  say,  they  can  ever  decide  what  their  views  are. 

It  certainly  is  a  good  deal  to  say  of  any  one  thing  in  this  Pro- 
testant England,  but  we  really  think  that  on  no  other  subject 
is  more  supreme  nonsense  talked,  in  and  out  of  Exeter  Hall, 
than  on  what  Protestants  call  the  Sabbath,  that  is  to  say,  the 
day  known  to  Christians  as  the  Sunday,  or  the  Lord's  Day — 
the  Dies  Domiiiica,  Whether  Sunday  is  the  first  day  of  the 
week,  or  the  seventh  day  of  the  week ;  whether  it  is  to  be 
kept  as  a  Jewish  day  of  rest,  or  not ;  in  short,  what  it  is,  and 
what  its  obligations  are,  are  matters  upon  which  the  Protestant 
rehgious  world,  and  Mr.  Horace  Mann's  Christian  Churches, 
have  no  dogmatic  statements  to  offer.  However,  the  day  is 
for  the  most  part  called  the  Sabbath ;  and  the  stress  of  pri- 
vate judgment  leans  in  a  very  unmistakeable  manner  towards 
an  outside  judaical  observance  of  it.  The  results  of  these  views 
we  are  going  to  lay  before  our  sight-seers  in  the  shape  of  a  pic- 
ture of  busy  life,  again  supplied  by  that  indefatigable  artist, 
the  Times.  It  seems  that  a  meeting  was  held  in  October 
1852,  at  Sion  College,  by  the  London  Establishment  ministers, 
against  the  opening  of  the  Crystal  Palace  on  Sundays.  On 
Saturday,  which  all  Christendom  calls  the  Sabbath,  October 
30,  1852,  the  Time&  gave  this  picture  by  way  of  reply.  It  is 
our  seventh  : 

"The  results  of  opening  the  Crystal  Palace  on  Sunday  after- 
noon, must,  of  course,  for  the  present,  be  entirely  conjectural ;  not 
so,  however,  the  results  of  having  no  such  resource.  There  will  be 
no  Crystal  Palace  to-morrow  afternoon,  nor  was  there  in  the  Sunday 


36G  Our  Picture  in  the  Census. 

afternoons  of  last  summer.     So  we  may  already  see  for  ourselves, 
without  going  to  Sion  College,  the  result  of  a  compliance  with  the 
address  thus  agreed  to.     Do  the  masses,  the  people,  the  working- 
classes  of  London,  crowd  to  our  churches,  morning,  afternoon,  even- 
ing, whenever  the  bells  invite  them  ?     Do  we  see  our  aisles,  our 
free  seats,  our  galleries,  crowded  with  the  pale  faces,  the  horny 
hands,  the  fustian  jackets,  the  coarse  linen,  of  those  who  do  the 
rough  work  of  this  vast  metropolis  ?     Where   are  the  artisans,  the 
labourers,  the  porters,  the  coalwhippers,  the  lightermen,  the  sailors, 
and   the  myriads  of  toiling  and    suffering  humanity  ?     Here  and 
there  one  of  them,  a  marvel  of  his  class,  a  man  to  write  a  book 
about,  the  hero  perhaps  already  of  half  a  dozen  religious  tracts, 
does  go  to  church,  or  to  meeting,  on  the  Sunday  morning,  and  per- 
haps the  evening  also.     Will  the  statists  and  prophets  ot  Sion  Col- 
lege tell  us  where  the  others  are,  the  999  out  of  a  thousand?     We 
presume  they  will  not  say  with  the  Pharisees  of  old,  '  this  people  is 
accursed,'  nor  can  they  imagine  that  these  999  are  engaged  in  pri- 
vate  prayer,   or   otherwise   observing  the  Sabbath.     No  ;  without 
specifying  the  various  attractions  which  the  existing  laws  permit  on 
the  Sunday  afternoon,  we  may  at  once  reply,  that^the  said  999  art 
sotting,   or   sleeping,    or  'talking    politics,    or   reading  the  Sunday 
papers,  or  fighting,  or  seeing  their  dogs  fight,  or  rat-catching,  or 
walking  in  the  fields — if  there  chance  to  be  any  within  walking  dis- 
tance— or  quarrelling  with  their  wives,  or  simply  doing  nothing  at 
all,  being  jaded,  wearied,  prostrated,  in  a  sort  of  hebdomadal  trance 
or  coma — that  very  minor  sort  of  intoxication  into  which  a  very 
wearied  man  may  be  thrown  by  a  single  half-glass  of  bad  beer,  or 
half-dram  of  bad  gin.     That  is  the  present  state  of  things  ;  and  thj 
is  the  state  which  the  Venerable  Archdeacon  and  his  friends  wish 
perpetuate,  as  it  certainly  would  be  perpetuated  by  a  complianc 
with  their  address. 

"  Might  we  beg  to  suggest  to  these  very  excellent  gentleme^ 
that  if  they  really  want  a  task  worthy  of  the  high  position  the 
claim,  they  had  better  leave  for  a  while  the  old  beaten  track,  ai 
the  very  easy  track,  of  mere  prohibitions,  and  attempt  something 
a  more  substantive,  more  constructive,  or,  as  the  Bible  expresses 
more  edifying  character.  Let  them  endeavour  rather  more  to 
our  churches  ;  let  them  go  into  the  streets  and  alleys,  into  the  cc 
lars  and  garrets,  and  try  to  reclaim  men  to  a  more  civilised 
religious  way  of  life  ;  and  finally,  so  train  the  people  that  they  shj 
of  themselves  come  to  church.  Most  assuredly  they  will  nev^ 
come  to  church  merely  because  they  can  go  nowhere  else  ;  for  a  mJ 
can  always  make  a  beast  of  liimself  at  home  if  he  has  nowhere  el^ 
to  go  to,  and  it  will  be  worse  for  his  wife  and  children  if  he  does  s^ 
But  it  is  quite  clear  that  the  lock  and  key  system  will  not  answ( 
Religion  and  morality  must  be  in  a  very  bad  way  when  their  onl 
trust  is  in  brick  walls  and  oak  doors,  to  keep  people  inside  or  oi 
side,  as  it  may  be — inside  a  prison,  or  outside  a  place  of  innocei 
instruction  or  recreation.     It  certainly  is  not  for  want  of  buildinj 


Our  Picture  in  the  Census.  367 

)r  endowments  or  clergy  that  '  tiie  people's  Sabbath'  is  spent  in  the 
vay  we  have  described,  for  there  is  hardly  a  working-man  in  London 
vho  has  not  a  church,  a  clergyman,  a  school,  and  all  the  rest  of  the 
larochial  apparatus,  within  a  quarter  of  a  mile  at  the  furthest.  It  is 
juite  evident  that  neither  opening  churches  nor  closing  places  of 
imusement  will  answer  without  something  else.  Now,  if  the  digni- 
aries  and  other  clergy  of  London  would  meet  to  consider  how  to 
,vin  the  hearts  and  souls  of  the  people,  they  might  possibly  counter- 
ict  the  attractions  of  the  Crystal  Palace,  without  the  rude  method  of 
amply  shutting  it  up.  As  it  is,  the  question  lies  between  various 
cinds  of  recreation  ;  between  the  recreations  of  the  gin-palace,  the 
jkiltle-ground,  the  prize-ring,  and,  most  innocent  of  all,  the  tea- 
warden,  on  the  one  hand,  and  on  the  other,  an  exhibition  similar  to 
:hat  which  was  opened  and  closed  with  sacred  worship,  in  the  pre- 
jcnce  of  royalty,  last  year. 


"  '  Oh,  but,'  says  one  of  the  speakers  at  Sion  College,  "  are  there 
lot  the  green  fields,  the  comforts  of  home,  and  many  things  that  the 
poor  man  can  enjoy  in  common  with  his  superiors  and  neighbours  V 
ko,  Mr.  T.  B.  Murray — for  that  is  the  gentleman  who  talks  in  this 
way — the  poor  man  has  not  green  fields,  nor  the  comforts  of  his 
borne,  nor  any  thing  he  can  enjoy  in  common  with  his  superiors,  ex- 
cept the  hard  pavement,  the  London  sky — seldom  very  clear — and 
the  inside  of  the  church,  for  which  hitherto  he  seems  to  have  but 
litde  appreciation.  It  takes  a  long  time  to  get  to  green  fields  from 
the  centre  of  London  ;  and  when  you  get  to  them  at  last,  you  find  the 
illusion  disappear.  You  find  you  must  walk  between  high  fences 
and  foul  ditches,  with  huge  palings,  smelling  of  gas  tar,  shutting  out 
the  view  ;  you  find  the  ground  too  damp,  and  the  grass  too  dirty,  to 
allow  you  to  sit  down  ;  and  there  is  no  other  way  to  rest  your  weary 
limbs  if  you  happen  to  be  tired  with  your  walk;  you  find  crowds  of 
people,  still  more  wearied  than  yourself,  looking  about  for  seats  in 
vain,  and  evidently  at  that  pass  which  soon  or  late  comes  to  all  in 
the  evening  of  life,  when  pleasure  itself  is  a  toil.  Nor  is  this  the 
whole  or  the  worst  of  your  disagreeables.  There  are  on  all  sides 
throngs  of  rude  lads,  occupied  very  suitably  for  their  own  boyish 
age,  and  obeying  instincts  which  you  are  disposed  to  regard  with 
indulgence,  but  somewhat  to  your  present  discomfort — that  is, 
throwing  stones,  pushing  one  another  about,  exercising  their  lungs, 
and  'larking'  generally.  You  also  meet  numerous  ill-conditioned 
fellows,  leading  awful-looking  bull  terriers,  with  every  imaginable 
vulgarity  of  body,  face,  and  limb.  Among  the  pleasantest  and  most 
available  spots  near  London,  at  all  in  the  nature  of  '  green  fields,' 
are  the  various  approaches  to  Hampstead,  particularly  that  over 
Primrose  Hill.  Will  Mr.  T.  B.  Murray,  then,  walk  to-morrow  from 
Camden  Town,  by  Chalk  Farm,  to  the  top  of  Primrose  Hill,  and 
thence  through  '  Belsize  Park  '  to  Hampstead  Church  ;  and  even  he 
will  acknowledge  that,  for  Sabbatical  peace  and  devotional  retire- 


368  Our  Picture  in  the  Census, 

ment,  you  miglit  as  well  be  roaming  through  the  aisles,  the  prome'^ 
nades,  and  the  gardens  of  the  Crystal  Palace." 

After  this,  what  about  Sabbath  observance,  and  the  Society 
instituted  for  that  purpose  ?  Wby,  just  this ;  that  until  they 
can  make  their  theology  as  to  the  Sabbath  clear,  the  people 
will  naturally  continue  to  please  themselves,  as  they  do.  The 
Crystal  Palace  must,  under  any  circumstances,  be  a  great  gain, 
in  comparison  with  the  details  of  this  picture  in  the  Times. 

One  of  the  groups  in  this  Sabbath  picture  is  quarrelling 
with  their  wives.  It  appears  that  this  is  a  normal  and  pecu- 
liarly Sabbatical  amusement.  But  it  has  been  pushed  of  late 
to  so  great  an  extent,  as  to  exceed  the  bounds  of  simple  ma- 
trimonial jars  ;  and  has  extended  itself  into  results  familiar  to 
the  law  as  "  assault  and  battery."  And  so  high  has  the  re- 
lish for  it  become,  that  in  the  interest  of  the  weaker  sex  the 
legislature  has  been  compelled  to  interfere,  and  produce  a 
fresh  law  to  avenge  the  cause  of  those  wlio  suffer  from  tlu 
strong  arms  of  our  highly  moral,  Protestant,  and  Bible-read- 
ing people.  The  pictures  produced  b}^  the  police-courts  in 
London,  almost  daily,  are  therefore  so  numerous,  and  so  fa- 
miliar to  every  reader  of  the  Times,  that  our  only  embarrass- 
ment is  selection  from  the  number  lying  before  us.  We  shall 
make  a  little  group,  and  call  it  the  eighth  picture  in  our  ca- 
talogue. 

*'  On  the  15th  of  July,  1853,  at  the  Southvvark  Court,  the  Tim 
reports  that  the  complainant,  a  decent  looking  woman,  declared  th 
on  the  previous  afternoon  she  was  in  the  Borough  Market,  when  \\ 
husband  came  up  to  her,  and,  without  any  provocation,  struck  her 
severe  blow,  and  ran  away.  She  said  nothing  about  that,  but  ivenf 
home  after  her  business  was  over.  She  had  not  been  there  many 
minutes  before  he  rushed  in  after  her,  and  struck  her  again,  on  the 
eye,  with  great  violence."  In  answer  to  inquiries  from  M 
A'Beckett,  she  said,  "  I  keep  the  standing,  and  support  the  famil 
but  he  handles  the  money  I  earn,  and  beats  me.  I  am  sorry  to  s 
that  my  body  is  covered  all  over  with  bruises  inflicted  by  him,  but 
never  liked  to  complain  at  this  court." 

This  is  the  usual  type  of  case,  with  the  occasional  variety 
of  the  woman  being  pregnant  and  kicked,  to  the  imminent 
peril  of  her  life.  Mr.  A'Beckett,  sending  this  enlightened 
husband  to  gaol,  said,  "  the  frequent  ill-usage  of  women,  for 
some  years  past,  had  created  perfect  scandal  in  the  country." 

"On  the  12th  of  July,  1853,  at  Worship  Street,  a  man  w 
brought  up  for  maltreating  a  woman  who  had  protected  his  wif^ 
which  wife  he  had  cruelly  used  and  neglected,  and  at  length  utterly 
abandoned."     That  morning  he  called  **at  the  house  of  the  coi 


I 


I 


Our  Picture  in  the  Census.  369 

plalnant  to  ask  after  his  child,  which  had  been  taken  out  by  the 
mother.  On  this  the  prisoner  called  her  a  liar,  and  dealt  her  such 
a  blow  on  the  left  side,  and  beneath  the  ear,  that  she  instantly  drop- 
ped on  the  door-step  ;  .  .  .  .  she  scrambled  on  to  her  feet,  and  fled 
behind  the  counter  to  protect  herself.  But  the  prisoner  forced  her 
down  into  a  corner,  and  as  he  could  not  strike  her  about  the  body, 
from  her  stooping  position,  beat  her  about  the  hfecid,  throat,  face, 
and  neck,  in  the  most  brutal  manner,  for  at  least  a  quarter  of  an 
hour,  declaring  all  the  time  that  he  was  determined  to  murder  her, 

Elizabeth  Casher,  a  nurse,  stated   that,  while  passing  the 

house,  slie  saw  the  prisoner  deal  the  woman  a  heavy  blow  on  the 
head,  and  afterwards  beat  her  about  the  head,  face,  and  neck  in  such 
a  frightful  manner  that  she  thought  he  must  have  killed  her.  The 
complainant  was  pinned  down  so  helplessly  in  a  corner,  that  she 
could  not  escape  from  his  blows  ;  and  from  his  beating  her  in  that 
way,  she  thought  at  first  she  must  be  his  own  ivife.'^ 

This  figure  of  the  nurse  looking  in  at  the  window,  under 
the  impression  that  it  must  bs  the  man's  own  wife,  because  he 
was  thumping  her  with  such  peculiar  science  and  interest,  is, , 
we  think,  very  worthy  of  attention.     We  recommend  it  to 
our  king  of  men. 

But  we  must  close  our  gallery.  And  it  will  give  Mr. 
Horace  Mann,  no  doubt,  professional  pleasure  when  we  in- 
form him,  that  it  will  be  with  a  large  picture  of  deaths,  which 
he  has,  no  doubt,  carefully  chronicled;  perhaps  not  entirely 
without  suspicion  of  the  realities  which  we  are  going  to  pro- 
duce. A  presentment  of  the  Grand  Jury  at  the  Liverpool 
Special  Commission,  appeared  in  the  Times  of  December  10th, 
1853.  Its  purport,  and  some  details  of  the  enormities  against 
Avhich  it  spoke,  and  the  witness  and  sentiments  of  the  Times, 
appeared  in  that  paper  on  the  12th  of  December.  We  give 
the  picture  drawn  by  the  Times  exactly  as  it  may  be  seen 
there.     And  with  it  we  conclude  our  present  catalogue. 

"The  foundation  of  human  society,  it  is  commonly  felt,  is  laid 
in  that  deep  and  almost  invincible  instinct  which  leads  the  mother 
to  watch  over  the  life  and  wellbeing  of  her  child.  Except  in  those 
terrible  cases  where  the  social  existence  of  the  mother  is  at  stake,  and 
after  a  frenzied  struggle,  the  fate  of  the  offspring  is  sealed  ere  it  be 
horn,  the  spectacle  of  a  parent  deliberately  allowing  and  even  com- 
passing the  death  of  the  child  is  more  unnatural  than  suicide,  more 
atrocious  than  murder,  more  hideous  than  sacrilege,  and  more  mon- 
strous than  any  other  extravagance  of  crime.  Yet  the  Grand  Jury 
at  the  Liverpool  Assizes,  presided  over  by  the  enlightened  and 
dispassionate  member  for  South  Lancashire,  are  unanimously  of 
opinion  that  the  interference  of  the  Legislature  is  imperatively 
called  on  to  arrest  the  frightful  progress  of  this  crime — to  arrest  it 
by  preventing  the  pecuniary  temptation  afforded  by  Burial  Clubs. 

VOL.  I. NEW  SERIES.  D  D 


370  Our  Picture  in  the  Census. 

As  matters  now  stand,  a  parent  may  insure  in  one  or  several  of 
these  societies,  and  by  a  small  weekly  subscription  secure  the  pay- 
ment of  several  pounds  in  the  event  of  a  child's  deatli,  for  the  vain 
consolation  of  a  handsome  funeral.  A  payment  may  be  secured 
far  beyond  the  wants  of  the  occasion,  and  in  order  to  procure  a  few 
pounds,  that  must  soon  be  dissipated,  as  the  wages  of  crime  always 
are,  there  are  found  parents  who  will  put  a  child  into  several  Burial 
Clubs,  carefully  pay  up  for  several  weeks,  and  finish  the  horrible 
speculation  by  the  murder  of  the  unsuspecting  child,  and  the 
mockery  of  a  mournful  ceremonial.  This  crime  is  said  to  be  in- 
creasing. The  Grand  Jury  has  no  doubt  that  the  system  of 
Burial  Clubs  operates  as  a  direct  incentive  to  murder,  and  that 
many  of  their  fellow-beings  are  year  by  year  hurried  into  eter- 
nity by  those  most  closely  united  to  them  by  the  ties  of  nature  and 
blood,  if  not  of  affection,  for  the  sake  of  a  few  pounds.  Such  is  the 
state  of  things,  such  the  tendency,  and  such  the  new  era  opening  to 
us  in  the  middle  of  the  nineteenth  century,  after  generations  of  phi- 
lanthropy, education,  and  reform.  The  worst  scandals  of  barbarism 
are  revived  and  surpassed  by  those  of  civilisation.  To  the  brutality 
of  the  savage  is  added  the  mercenary  calculations  of  a  civilised  age. 
The  homeless  wanderer  that  deserts  the  child  she  can  no  longer  feed 
or  carry,  the  Spartan  parent  that  sacrifices  a  maimed  and  therefore 
useless  progeny,  the  Pagan  devotee  that  offers  the  blameless  victim 
on  the  shrine  of  some  hideous  deity,  and  all  other  forms  of  infanti- 
cide, are  surpassed  in  a  new  crime,  which  does  all  this  for  the  sake 
of  a  little  money,  and  the  few  momentary  indulgences  it  may  pur- 
chase. In  a  time  of  ease,  fulness,  and  security,  the  worst  horror  of  the 
besieged  city  is  perpetrated,  not  to  satisfy  the  ravenous  appetite  of 
a  delirious  mother,  but,  on  a  sober  calculation,  to  buy  a  few  days' 
holiday,  a  dress  or  two,  and  some  superfluous  comforts.  Scores 
such  cases  have  been  detected  and  punished  ;  many  more  are  sui 
pected ;  they  are  pronounced  frequent  and  increasing ;  and  tl 
Legislature  is  invoked  to  withdraw  the  irresistible  pecuniary  tern 
tation. 

"  To  stop  the  practice  of  Burial  Clubs,  or  to  put  them  under 
such  limitations  and  rules  as  shall  render  the  loss  of  a  child  no  gain 
to  the  parent,  is  a  practical  measure,  which  goes  to  the  root  of  the 
crime  in  its  actual  and  developed  form.  To  that  there  can  be  no 
objection,  ignominious  as  it  must  be  to  the  Senate  of  this  great  em- 
pire to  recognise  so  hideous  a  crime,  not  in  a  subject  tribe,  but  in  its 
own  manufacturing  population  at  home.  At  the  risk  of  publishing 
the  scandal  in  the  ears  of  all  our  enemies  and  calumniators,  this  must 
be  done.  As  to  the  value  of  the  other  suggestion  offered  by  the 
Grand  Jury,  there  may  be  diflferent  opinions.  For  our  own  part,  we 
cannot  help  fearing  that,  if  Nature  prove  insufficient  to  keep  tht 
mother  from  murdering  her  child,  education  can  do  little  more.  This 
is  not  an  offence  against  knowledge,  but  against  instinct,  and  the  firsi 
laws  of  our  physical  and  moral  being.  *'  Can  a  mother  forget  hei 
sucking  child  ?"    Can  she  learn  more  than  Nature  teaches  her  ?    Ci 


i 


Our  Picture  hi  the  Census,  371 

she  acquire  at  school  a  feeling  which  maternity  has  failed  to  generate  ? 
Much  may  be  done  indeed  by  the  general  improvement  of  the  work- 
ing classes,  and  by  bringing  them  more  under  the  eye  and  within  the 
civilising  and  moralising  influence  of  their  superiors.  Say  what 
satirists  will  of  the  vulgarity  of  the  middle  classes,  the  fireside  in  that 
rank  of  life  is  the  home  of  domestic  virtues,  and,  as  a  general  rule, 
may  teach  some  good  lessons  to  the  ranks  both  above  and  below. 
But  then  more  must  be  done  than  is  now  done  to  cement  the  diffe- 
rent orders  of  society,  and  introduce  them  one  to  another.  The 
great  work  of  this  day  is  to  fill  up,  if  it  may  be,  that  now  almost 
impassable  gulf  that  yawns  betw^een  the  employers  and  the  employed 
nowhere  so  much  as  in  our  great  manufacturing  cities.  It  is  not  the 
village  labourer,  with  his  ten  hungry  mouths  to  be  fed  out  of  as 
many  shillings  a  week,  who  does  this  horrid  deed,  but  the  occupant 
of  some  cellar  or  garret  under  the  smoke  of  tall  chimneys,  and  near 
the  ceaseless  buzz  of  machinery.  Uncared  for,  unvisited,  unsought 
and  unknown  ;  buried  in  sensuality  and  hardened  by  want  ;  dark 
and  moody,  aimless  and  miserable,  the  wretched  parent  conceives  a 
morbid  longing  for  some  indulgences  beyond  her  means,  and  having 
no  pure  and  kindly  influences  to  correct  the  horrid  craving,  lets  it 
take  its  course,  and  sinks  to  a  depth  below  humanity  and  brute  na- 
ture itself. 

"  But,  while  the  Grand  Jury  of  Liverpool  are  quietly  suggesting 
legislative  remedies,  another  still  more  serious  comment  will  suggest 
itself  to  many  a  reflective  mind.  Such  a  crime  is  more  than  a 
crime  ;  it  is  a  prodigy — a  portent — and  has  its  horrid  significance. 
A  deed  scarcely  more  hideous,  and  substantially  the  same,  but  with 
more  temptation,  marked  the  character  of  an  awful  siege,  and  the 
doom  of  a  protected  but  then  abandoned  people.  When  the  mother 
had  forgotten  her  sucking  child,  then  Heaven  forgot  its  chosen  race, 
and  surrendered  it  to  the  fury  of  the  nations.  The  people  whose 
land  was  thus  first  defiled,  and  then  profaned,  had  left  their  deliverer 
and  the  guide  of  their  youth.  The  general  wreck  of  natural  feeling 
was  consummated  and  represented  in  one  hideous  act.  But,  when 
we  find  among  ourselves  not  one  act  alone,  but  a  prevailing  and  still 
increasing  practice  of  the  character  thus  denounced,  ought  we  not  to 
draw  the  most  fearful  surmises  as  to  the  general  depravation  of 
domestic  feeling  ?  Here  are  children  born,  nursed,  nourished,  fed, 
clothed,  taught  to  meet  the  mother's  smile,  to  lisp  the  mother's 
name,  to  stand  upright,  and  make  their  first  essays  in  the  world, 
where  they  might  act  so  great  a  part.  This,  the  work  of  years  and 
of  such  cost  and  trouble,  is  all  done,  as  it  seems,  with  no  more 
heart  than  a  woman  would  plant  a  row  of  cabbages  or  let  a  hen 
hatch  a  nestfuU  of  eggs.  It  is  simply  a  crop  to  be  planted,  watered, 
and  then  gathered  in, — a  useful  animal  to  be  bred,  and  converted 
into  money  in  due  time, — a  speculation  to  be  wound  up  at  the  ear- 
liest opportunity.  With  what  amount  of  heart  are  families  generally 
reared  ?  What  is  the  inducement  ?  Whose  weal,  and  what  weal,  is 
the  object  of  the  long  toils  and  sacrifices  ?     When  is  it  a  work  of 


372  Our  Picture  in  the  Census, 

nature,  and  when  a  mere  pecuniary  speculation?  When  for  the 
child,  and  when  for  the  parent?  Certainly  it  is  one  of  the  scandals 
of  civilisation  that  it  sacrifices  nature  to  schemes  of  ambition  and 
aggrandisement,  in  which  the  more  substantial  interests,  because  the 
more  vital  and  eternal,  are  sacrificed.  Is  there  not  some  analogy  in 
these  sacrifices  to  the  portentous  deeds  now  so  rife,  we  are  told,  in 
the  depraved  population  of  the  manufacturing  districts  ?  A  reflec- 
tion so  painful,  so  delicate,  and  yet  so  suggestive,  we  gladly  leave 
in  the  hands  of  our  readers,  with  no  further  remark  than  that  there 
does  seem  something  hideously  significant  in  so  extensive  and  so 
increasing  a  horror." 

And  this  is  England  in  general,  and  Liverpool  in  parti- 
cular, portrayed  by  the  Times!  Free,  enlightened,  Protest- 
ant, Scriptural  England.  This  is  the  result  of  "  open  Bible,"  of 
suppressing,  as  far  as  massacre  and  penal  laws  could  suppress, 
the  Catholic  Church,  of  stealing  her  revenues,  of  spending 
up\vards  of  five  millions  a  year  on  the  Establishment,  of  the 
efforts  of  all  the  Christian  Protestant  Churches  in  Mr.  Horace 
Mann's  paper-basket.  And  this  is  the  England  in  which  Mr. 
Chambers  fears  the  existence  of  Nuns.  We  are  ready  to  drop 
our  pen  over  our  argumentative  success.  We  are  awfully 
avenged.  The  days  of  Herod  and  Queen  Elizabeth  are  paid 
for  by  the  carnage  of  Liverpool.  In  spite  of  every  prayer 
that  a  Catholic  can  utter  for  his  erring  neighbour,  we  are  vin- 
dicated. We  gladly  leave  so  horrible  a  topic,  with  the  hope 
that  whatever  shape  the  popular  religion  at  Liverpool  and  else 
where  may  take,  this  state  of  things  may  be  met  as  far  as  po^ 
sible  by  the  law. 

The  dearest  friends,  as  Swift  has  told  us,  must  part;  an] 
we  are  now  going  to  part  with  Mr.  Horace  Mann.  He  w 
believe  us  when  we  sa}-,  that  we  part  with  him  with  regre; 
The  next  period  of  his  appearance  is  ten  years  off;  and  t 
years  is  a  long  time  in  the  life  of  man.  Looking  to  the  futun 
and  especially  to  this  interval,  which  thus  stands  between  tl 
present  race  and  those  who  may  be  in  existence  ten  year.^ 
hence,  we  propose  to  offer  one  or  two  suggestive  remarks  b} 
way  of  peroration  to  our  king  of  men,  who,  if  he  ever  had  an 
infancy,  must,  like  Pope,  have 

"  lisp'd  in  numbers  ;  for  the  numbers  came." 

Will  Mr.  Horace  Mann  be  so  good  as  to  tell  us  what  has 
become  of  the  Queen's  supremacy  ?  It  seems  to  us  that  he 
has  caught  the  sacred  final  court  of  appeal  in  the  judicia 
committee  of  the  Privy  Council  actually  napping.  Here  are 
all  these  "  Christian  Churches,"  in  which  he  has  been  runnin, 
riot,  presented  to  the  Queen,  and  by  her  presented  to  bo 


^ 


Our  Picture  in  the  Census,  873 

Houses  of  Parliament ;  and  yet  they  all,  every  one  of  them, 
utterly  abhor,  detest,  abjure,  and  do  every  thmg  else  that  is 
necessary  to  declare  their  rejection  of  the  supremacy  of  her 
Majesty  in  the  direction  of  their  affairs,  with  the  one  excep- 
tion of  the  Established  Episcopacy  in  England.  The  estab- 
lished Scotch  Kirk  is  no  whit  behind  the  rest  of  the  ''  Chris- 
tian Churches"  in  this  view,  as  to  its  internal  discipline  and 
its  doctrine.  And  we  have  no  doubt  that  Dr.  Cumming,  in 
his  preaching-house  in  London,  would,  if  properly  provoked, 
not  fail  to  remind  the  regal  authority  of  a  certain  document 
called  the  Solemn  League  and  Covenant,  which  enforces  the 
Genevan  views  with  singular  terseness  and  homeliness  of  ex- 
pression. But  if  her  Majesty  has  been  induced,  by  whatever 
means,  to  allow  all  these  "  Christian  Churches"  to  be  pre- 
sented to  her  and  to  Parliament  as  such,  it  is  quite  clear  that 
her  spiritual  supremacy  over  a  very  large  part,  probably  the 
large  majority,  of  her  English  and  "Welsh  subjects  is  formally 
given  up.  The  crown  is  no  longer  the  universal  spiritual 
head. 

"  Divisum  imperium  cum  Jove  Cassar  habet" 

It  shares  that  supremacy  not  only  with  the  Pope,  but  with 
Calvin,  John  Wesley,  and  Joe  Smith,  not  to  mention  other 
equally  pleasant  names.  How  much  longer  then,  after  such, 
an  avowal,  is  the  formula  to  run  on,  "  in  all  cases  ecclesias- 
tical as  well  as  temporal,  within  these  her  dominions  supreme  ?" 
If  we  were  Anglicans,  we  should  have  great  fears.  Perhaps 
they  have  them.  Who  is  this  Mr.  Horace  Mann  ?  By  what 
incantations  has  he,  in  a  single  brown  book,  shivered  that 
tremendous  weapon,  so  long  the  terror  of  England  ?  Can  our 
Anglican  friends  have  forgotten, — surely  not  all  of  them  can 
have  forgotten — the  use  made  of  this  supremacy  in  the  Gorham 
case  ?  Were  they  not  crushed  by  it  ?  Was  not  its  exercise 
to  be  the  signal  to  many  of  them  that  their  slavery  was  no 
longer  tolerable,  and  that  they  must  fly  to  us,  who  had  never 
owned  it,  and  who  had  spent  a  century  and  a  half  in  death 
and  confiscation — the  consequences  of  our  steadily  resisting 
it.  We  stand  now,  as  we  have  ever  done,  and  as  all  these 
other  "  Christian  Churches"  do,  utterly  free  from  it.  Perhaps 
by  the  next  census,  the  endowed  Anglican  Establishment  may 
have  found  a  more  ingenuous  and  honest  position,  and  be,  in 
this  respect,  more  like  the  "other  Christian  Churches." 

The  royal  supremacy,  however,  may  be  got  rid  of,  even  in 
England,  and  Christianity  still  remain  intact.  But  there  is  a 
Divine  supremacy,  which  Mr.  Mann  does  not  seem  disposed 
to  treat  with  much  more  consideration  than  he  has  treated  the 


374  Our  Picture  in  the  Census. 

royal  supremacy ;  for  what  becomes  of  it  after  this  passage, 
which  occurs  on  page  xlvi.  of  this  Brown  Book  ? 

"  Another  diversity  of  sentiment,  sufficiently  important  to  neces- 
sitate a  separate  sect,  is  that  respecting  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity. 
The  Unitarians,  therefore,  who  deny  the  Divinity  of  Christ,  on  that 
account  are  generally  found  to  form  a  distinct  denomination  ;  though, 
to  some  extent,  holders  of  anti- Trinitarian  opinions  may  be  found  in 
other  bodies." 

Pleasant  light  reading  this  information  of  Mr.  Horace 
Mann,  told  with  so  much  innocence  and  bonhommie,  is  it  not? 

But  this  is  a  digression.     To  return  to  the  question  of  the 
Royal  Supremacy.     In  the  great  fuss  made  in  1850  and  1851 
about  the  re-establishment  of  the  CathoHc  hierarchy,  much 
stress  was  laid  upon  the  invasion  of  the  dioceses  occupied  bj 
Protestant  bishops.     It  was  urged  that  these  dioceses  alreadj 
had  bishops,  and  that  it  was  an  aggression  upon  the  Queen*j 
authority,  and  upon  the  jurisdiction  of  the  Protestant  bishops, 
to  introduce  Catholic  diocesan  bishops  into  the  country.  Well, 
on  this  point  we  need  say  nothing  now.     But  if  the  distribu- 
tion of  the  country  into  dioceses  is  worth  any  thing,  what  is  it< 
distribution  into  parishes  ?     These  "  Christian  Churches"  oj 
Mr.  Horace  Mann's  are,  by  hypothesis,  without  bishops,  except 
the  Moravians  and  the  Irvingites,  who  have  something  of  th 
kind.    But  all  of  them,  also  by  hypothesis,  invade  the  parochic: 
system.     The  village  meeting-house,  which  seduces  those  i. 
the  evening  who  have  nodded  under  the  rector  ofFudley-cu 
Pipes  in  the  morning,  is  as  clear  an  invasion  of  the  rights 
the  endowed  Protestant  Church,  as  the  establishment  of  a  ri 
Episcopacy.     The   two  aggressions  difier  in  degree,  not 
kind.     The  Calvinistic  system  not  only  has  not,  but  detes! 
episcopacy;  and  therefore  there  is  no  contest  between  a  Pn 
byterian  and  a  Protestant  bishop.     But  the  blow  is  stru 
and  has  for  ages  been  struck,  with  great  force  at  the  point 
which  the  systems  come  into  collision,  namely,  in  "  paroch 
ministrations."     And  against  this  blow  may  be  read,  in  thi 
Protestant  canons  of  1603,  some  very  shrewd  and  uncomph 
mentary  statements,  which,  together  with  the  solemn  lengut 
and  covenant,  we  recommend  to  the  fraternal  reading  of  that  de 
lightful  institution,  the  Protestant  alliance,  over  their  witches 
broth,  and  otherwise.     And  is  it  then  come  to  this  for  the 
Anglicans,  that  the  invaders  of  their  parishes,  the  traducers  o 
their  system,  and  ''that  pure  and  apostolical  branch  estab 
lished  in  these  realms,"  should  be  served  up,  along  with  them- 
selves, as  a  dainty  dish  to  set  before  the  Queen  ?     Where  i^ 
Hooker — the  judicious  ?     Where  is  Andrews  ?     We  dare  m 
ask  where  is  Laud  ?     Where  is  Bramhall  ?  where  is  Thor 


^ 


Dr,  Neivman's  Lectures  on  the  Turks,  375 

dyke  ?  where  is  Jeremy  Taylor  ?  Gorliam  answers,  Where  ? 
Horace  ^Mann  answers,  Where  ?  Lords  and  Commons  answer, 
Where  ?  Her  Majesty  herself,  if  it  is  her  royal  pleasure,  we 
beg  respectfully  to  say,  may  also  answer.  Where  ? 

Oh,  Mr.  Horace  Mann,  it's  all  you  !  We  shall  know 
more  about  it  by  the  next  census,  if  we  all  live  so  long,  and 
you  then  divulge  the  secret  of  your  "sitting."  In  the  mean- 
time, while  we  are  waiting  the  divulging  of  that  incubation, 
of  all  these  evils  to  our  established  friends  and  to  the  cause  of 
"Evangelic  truth  and  Apostolic  order,"  you  are  the  dreadful 
witness.  We  would  not  willingly  leave  you  to  the  furies  of 
Archdeacon  Denison,  and  to  such  destiny  as  might  await  you 
from  "  the  restored  synodical  action  of  the  Church  of  England 
in  her  convocation."  Denison  will  unquestionably  move  that 
you  shall  be  delivered  over  to  the  secular  arm.  He  will  point 
to  the  proximity  of  Palace-yard,  and  to  its  being  a  fit  place 
for  the  expiation  of  your  offences.  He  will  have  many  follow- 
ers. Mr.  Montague  Villiers,  Honourable  and  Reverend,  will 
plead  your  cause.  Archdeacon  Hale,  worn  out  with  the 
burden  of  his  many  charges,  may  perhaps,  from  a  desire  to 
obtain  assistant-labourers  at  any  price,  be  for  a  mild  censure. 
But  take  our  advice,  and  don't  trust  the  Lower  House.  It  is 
in  the  Upper  House,  who  have  ceased  to  have  parishes,  that 
your  chance  of  safety  lies.  There,  although  Oxford  may  de- 
nounce, and  Exeter  gloat  over  the  possibility  of  witnessing 
your  fate,  recollect  that  you  have  a  Maltby.  Dr.  Sumner,  too, 
will  come  heartily  to  your  rescue ;  and  in  the  instant  of  the 
possible  triumph  of  the  Denison  party,  will  save  you  and  every 
thing  else  by  a  prorogation.  As  we  have  more  than  once  in- 
timated, in  the  safety  and  long  life  of  such  a  man,  tarn  cari 
capitis,  we  must  ever  rejoice.  And  so  we  end  our  present  ac- 
quaintance— too  short  alas ! — with  wishing  Mr.  Horace  Mann, 
what  in  the  lighter  and  convivial  moments  of  the  office  must 
be  the  professional  toast — many,  many,  many,  happy  returns. 


DR.  NEWMAN'S  LECTURES  ON  THE  TURKS : 

CATHOLIC  INSTITUTES. 

Lectures  on  the  History  of  the  Turks  in  its  relation  to  Chris- 
tianity.    By  the  Author  of  "  Loss  and  Gain."      Dublin  : 
Duffy,  185L 
We  rise  from  a  perusal  of  this  book  with  a  feeling  of  the 
embarrassment  of  riches,  which  makes  it  difficult  to   select 


376  Dr,  Newman's  Lectures  on  the  Turks : 

from  the  accumulated  mass  of  wealth,  such  a  portion  as  we 
can  afford  to  bestow  upon  our  readers.  That  the  revered  and 
gifted  author  has  here  given  us  what  will  serve  to  carry  on  a 
now  time-honoured  claim  to  both  those  titles,  it  is  almost  su- 
perfluous to  assure  them.  We  recognise  in  every  page  the 
rare  combination  of  qualities  which  attach  to  Dr.  Newman's 
name :  the  strong  grasp  of  facts  and  accuracy  of  detail,  the 
power  of  rapid  historical  sketching,  and  of  bringing  together 
names  and  actions  from  centuries  or  regions  far  apart,  to  con- 
verge upon  a  principle  to  be  illustrated;  and  this,  with  an 
ease  and  naturalness,  which,  while  it  strikes  and  convinces, 
only  leaves  us  to  wonder  that  he,  and  not  ourselves,  should 
have  been  the  first  to  bring  it  to  light :  &>?  aXT^^w?,  iyo) 
3'  rffjiapTov.  We  have,  too,  besides  the  vivid  geographical 
pictures,  with  which  it  was  the  office  of  the  lecturer  on  his 
present  subject  to  furnish  us,  the  other  and  more  familiar  ex- 
cellences of  unstudied  yet  highly  graphic  description,  acute 
discrimination  of  character,  and  a  style  alternately  copious 
and  terse,  playful  and  earnest,  but  scholar-like  and  natural; 
with  here  and  there  perhaps  the  slightest  conceivable  slip,  to 
afford  internal  evidence  (as  was  said  of  Massillon  with  far  less 
reason)  that  the  author  was  thinking  of  his  subject,  not  of  his 
pen. 

Personally,  we  might  feel  it  to  be  taking  a  kind  of  liberty 
to  have  said  even  thus  much,  instead  of  simply  making  a  selec- 
tion of  passages  to  bring  our  readers  to  the  conclusion,  inde- 
pendently of  criticism.     But  the  critic  is  bound,  by  the  socii 
compact  between  himself  and  the  community  of  those  wl 
read  at  second-hand,  not  to  be  the  mere  Pylades  of  the  trj 
gedy,  an  attendant  shadow  on   the  hero  of  the  scene,  but 
say  at  least  a  few  words  of  his  own.     And  we  may  take  thi 
opportunity  of  saying,  that  we  feel  our  obligation  to  the  authc 
of  these  lectures  to  consist,  not  simply  in  his  having  given 
a  book  containing  much  history,  and  suggesting  more,  an  ii 
tellectual  treat  of  the  most  attractive  form,  and  within  tl 
compass  of  even  the  most  occupied.     He  has  done  more  for 
us  than  this.     To  have  rubbed  up  in  our  memories  the  glo- 
rious and  life-like  narratives  of  old  Herodotus;  to  have  linked 
him  on  to  Sir  John  Mandeville  {Arcades  ambo),  and  Gibbon, 
and  Volney,  and  the  modern  travellers  in  the  East,  would  of 
itself  have  been  no  slight  boon.     But  we  conceive  it  to  be  a 
yet  higher  benefit  to  be  enabled  to  say  to  our  fellow-country^ 
men,  on  the  authority  of  a  name  of  European  celebrity,  anc 
one  which  even  England  does  not  ignore,  that  a  Catholic  hai 
free  range  of  thought  and  play  of  mind  on  subjects  of  gencraj 
historical  interest;  that  a  priest,  in  this  age  of  over-taske( 


Catholic  Institutes.  377 

powers  and  scanty  time,  can,  side  by  side  with  his  missal  and 
his  breviary,  employ  himself  on  matters  which  equally  engage 
the  statesman  and  the  philosopher ;  and  a  theologian  turn  from 
his  Suarez,  and  De  Lugo,  and  Viva,  to  look  out  upon  the 
great  theatre  of  the  world,  and  summon  the  history  of  the  Past 
to  illustrate  the  bearings  of  an  important,  if  not  an  anxious 
Present.  To  be  book-worms  on  a  very  small  scale  when  we 
are  not  public  agitators,  seems  to  be  assumed  by  many  as  the 
alternative  of  a  Catholic  priest.  In  their  view,  he  is  a  being 
limited  to  a  certain  tether  of  thought  and  interests ;  never  tra- 
velling beyond  his  confessional  and  his  round  of  sick  calls ; 
nor  leaving  the  pages  of  his  few  manuals,  except  for  those  of 
the  Tablet  or  the  Lamp.  Now  we  frankly  concede  all  honour 
to  such  zealous  missioners,  as,  having  been  called  to  active  and 
practical  work,  do  not  look  beside  it,  but  hold  straight  on 
with  the  one  idea  of  saving  souls  in  the  definite  though  rugged 
path  marked  out  for  them.  All  honour  to  them,  in  proportion 
as  their  natural  tastes,  their  capacities  and  antecedents,  would 
have  inclined  them  to  strike  into  some  of  those  many  tempting- 
tracks,  which  to  them  at  least  would  be  a  divergence  and 
abandonment  of  duty.  They  have  left  by  the  way-side,  oculo 
irretorto,  one  of  the  most  attractive  of  the  golden  apples  that 
would  have  stayed  their  course.  Others,  meanwhile,  have 
had  a  more  versatile  and  "  many-sided"  part  to  sustain ; 
equally  capable  of  promoting  the  glory  of  their  Master,  and 
of  exhibiting,  through  the  Church,  that  has  a  sphere  and  a 
department  for  all.  His  "  manifold  Wisdom."  We  certainly 
hold  it  to  be  no  inferior  part  of  the  vocation  of  such  a  writer 
as  the  author  of  Loss  and  Gain  to  afford  a  standing  refuta- 
tion to  one  deeply-fixed  impression  in  the  English  mind.  We 
mean  the  impression,  refuted  again  and  again,  and  then 
quietly  re-assumed  as  a  first  principle,  that  no  Catholic  is 
really  a  free  agent  in  the  regions  of  intellect  or  history.  You 
must  either,  it  seems,  think  for  yourself  and  read  for  yourself, 
and  then  you  become  a  bad  Catholic,  sitting  loose  to  the 
Church's  view  of  things,  and  likely  at  any  moment  (unless  the 
pride  of  consistency  keep  you  back)  to  *'  scratch  in"  both  your 
eyes  again,  like  the  wise  man  of  Thessaly  in  the  ancient  bal- 
lad, by  a  second  transit  through  the  hedge  that  has  blinded 
you.  Or  you  must  acquiesce  in  the  Church's  view  of  history, 
and  then  you  become  a  timid  historian,  afraid  to  look  facts 
m  the  face,  selecting  only  certain  passages  from  second-rate 
writers,  and  those  (may  be)  garbled  or  glossed.  You  remain 
in  the  Catholic  family,  but  at  the  price  of  surrendering  your 
judgment;  or  you  hunger  for  xaove piquant  fare,  and  insist  on 
enjoying  it,  but,  like  Esau,  by  the  loss  of  your  once-cherished 


378  Br,  Newmans  Lectures  on  the  Turks : 

heritage.  We  shall  wait  with  some  Uttle  interest  to  know  on 
which  horn  of  the  dilemma  the  Lectures  on  the  Turks  are  to 
be  impaled. 

We  have  too  long  detained  our  readers  from  the  book 
itself;  and  we  proceed  to  give  some  extracts,  to  illustrate,  in 
the  first  place,  that  power  of  conceiving  and  representing  the 
material  aspect  of  a  country,  as  influencing  the  destinies  of  a 
race,  which  we  have  already  represented  as  one  of  its  remark- 
able characteristics.  The  value  of  such  a  power  in  a  writer 
of  history  need  scarcely  be  dwelt  upon.  It  constitutes  the 
historical  painter,  whose  scenes  dwell  upon  the  mind  because 
they  are  at  once  vivid  and  real,  recognised  as  picturesque 
and  poetic,  inasmuch  as  they  are  not  drawn  from  fancy,  but 
vigorous  transcripts  of  the  earth  that  bears  us.  The  rocks 
of  Salvator  Rosa  are  the  actual  rocks  of  Italy  ;  the  beeches  oi 
Gainsborough  are  the  beeches  that  overhang  many  an  Eng- 
lish lane.  We  should  be  poorly  compensated  by  wilder  or 
more  graceful  forms  for  the  loss  of  their  naturalness  and 
truth.  And  now  we  undraw  the  curtain  of  a  picture,  oi 
rather  a  moving  panorama,  as  faithful  to  the  life  as  any  thin^ 
that  ever  came  from  pencil,  or  was  given  to  canvas.  Th( 
author  is  describing  the  wild  inhospitable  regions  in  whicl 
the  Tartars  were  bred,  and  the  course  they  naturally  took  i] 
descending  upon  more  fertile  and  more  civilised  lands : 

"  I  have  said  that  the  geographical  features  of  their  coun 
carry  them  forward  in  those  two  directions,  the  south  and  west ;  n 
to  say  that  the  ocean  forbids  them  going  eastward,  and  the  no: 
does  but  hold  out  to  tliem  a  climate  more  inclement  than  th 
own.  Leaving  the  district  of  Mongolia  in  the  furthermost  ea: 
high  above  the  north  of  Ch^na,  and  passing  through  the  long  ai 
broad  valleys  which  I  spoke  of  just  now,  the  emigrants  at  len 
would  arrive  at  the  edge  of  that  elevated  plateau  which  cons 
lutes  Tartary  proper.  They  would  pass  over  the  high  region  o 
Pamer,  where  are  the  sources  of  the  Oxus ;  they  would  descend  th' 
terrace  of  the  Bolor,  and  the  steeps  of  Badakshan,  and  graduall 
reach  a  vast  region,  flat  on  the  whole  as  the  expanse  they  had  left 
but  as  strangely  depressed  beneath  the  level  of  the  sea,  as  Tartar 
is  lifted  above  it.  This  is  the  country,  forming  the  two  basin 
of  the  Aral  and  the  Caspian,  which  terminates  the  immense  Asiati 
plain,  and  may  be  vaguely  designated  by  the  name  of  Turkistar 
Hitherto  the  necessity  of  their  route  would  force  them  on,  in  on 
multitudinous  emigration,  but  now  they  may  diverge,  and  hav 
diverged.  If  they  were  to  cross  the  Jaxartes  and  tiie  Oxus,  an 
proceed  at  length  southward,  tliey  would  come  to  Khorasan,  th 
ancient  Bactria,  and  so  to  Affghanistan  and  to  Hindostan  on  the  eas 
or  to  Persia  on  the  west.  But  if  instead  they  continued  their  we 
ward  course,  then  they  would  skirt  the  north  coast  of  the  Aral  ai 


Catholic  Institutes,  379 

the  Caspian,  cross  the  Volga,  and  there  have  a  second  opportunity, 
if  they  chose  to  avail  themselves  of  it,  of  descending  southwards, 
by  Georgia  and  Armenia,  either  to  Syria  or  to  Asia  Minor.  Re- 
fusing this  diversion,  and  persevering  onwards  to  the  west,  at  length 
they  would  pass  the  Don,  and  descend  upon  Europe  across  the 
Ukraine,  Bessarabia,  and  the  Danube. 

"  Such  are  the  three  routes, — across  the  Oxus,  across  the  Cau- 
casus, and  across  die  Danube — which  the  pastoral  nations  have 
variously  pursued  at  various  times,  when  their  roving  habits,  their 
warlike  propensities,  and  their  discomforts  at  home,  have  combined 
to  precipitate  them  on  the  industry,  the  civilisation,  and  the  luxury 
of  the  west  and  of  the  south." 

We  cannot  deny  our  readers  the  pleasure  of  the  sentences 
immediately  following  these,  which  carry  us  along  over  the 
regions  which  the  author  had  just  sketched  in  still  life,  with 
a  velocity  and  force  that  really  constitute  the  passage  a  sort 
of  Mazeppa  in  prose. 

"  At  such  times,  as  might  be  inferred  from  what  has  been  already 
said,  their  invasions  have  been  rather  irruptions,  inroads,  or  what 
are  called  raids,  than  proper  conquest  and  occupation  of  the  coun- 
tries which  have  been  their  victims.  They  would  go  forward, 
200,000  of  them  at  once,  at  the  rate  of  1000  miles  in  ten  days, 
swimming  the  rivers,  galloping  over  the  plains,  intoxicated  with  the 
excitement  of  air  and  speed,  as  if  it  were  a  fox-chase,  or  full  of  pride 
and  fury  at  the  reverses  which  set  them  in  motion ;  seeking,  indeed, 
their  fortunes,  but  seeking  them  on  no  plan  ;  like  a  flight  of  locusts, 
or  a  swarm  of  angry  wasps  smoked  out  of  their  nest.  They  would 
seek  for  immediate  gratification,  and  let  the  future  take  its  course. 
They  would  be  bloodthirsty  and  rapacious,  and  would  inflict  ruin 
and  misery  to  any  extent ;  and  they  would  do  tenfold  more  harm 
to  the  invaded  than  benefit  to  themselves.  They  would  be  power- 
ful to  break  down ;  helpless  to  build  up.  They  would  in  a  day 
undo  the  labour  and  the  skill  of  years  ;  but  they  w^ould  not  know 
how  to  construct  a  polity,  how  to  administer  affairs,  how  to  organise 
a  system  of  slavery,  or  to  digest  a  code  of  laws.  Radier  they  would 
despise  the  sciences  of  politics,  law,  and  finance;  and  if  they  ho- 
noured any  profession  or  vocation,  it  would  be  such  as  bore  imme- 
diately and  personally  on  themselves.  Thus  we  find  them  treating  the 
priest  and  the  physician  with  respect,  when  they  found  such  among 
their  captives  ;  but  they  could  not  endure  the  presence  of  a  lawyer. 
How  could  it  be  otherwise  with  those  who  may  be  called  the  out- 
laws of  the  human  race  ?  They  did  but  justify  the  seeming  para- 
dox of  the  traveller's  exclamation,  who,  when  at  length,  after  a 
dreary  passage  through  the  wilderness,  he  came  in  sight  of  a  gibbet, 
returned  thanks  that  he  had  now  arrived  at  a  civilised  country." 

These  galloping  Tartars,  however,  have  tempted  us  away, 
in  our  attempts  to  '*  catch"  them,  from  our  immediate  object, 
which  was  to  illustrate  the  power  of  philosophical  geography, 


380  Dr,  Neivman's  Lectures  on  the  Turks : 


1 


already  referred  to.  We  will  quote  but  one  more  passage, 
and  then  pass  from  noticing  a  characteristic  which  imparts 
such  a  charm  to  this  book  that  we  would  fain  have  dwelt 
longer  upon  it. 

"  We  have  now  arrived  at  wliat  may  literally  be  called  the  turn- 
ing-point of  Turkish  history.  We  have  seen  them  gradually  descend 
from  the  north,  and  in  a  certain  degree  become  acclimated  in  the 
countries  where  they  settled.  They  first  appear  across  the  Jaxartes 
in  the  beginning  of  the  seventh  century;  they  have  now  come  to  the 
beginning  of  the  eleventli.  Four  centuries  or  thereabout  have  tliey 
been  out  of  their  deserts,  gaining  experience  and  educating  them- 
selves in  such  measure  as  was  necessary  for  playing  their  part  in 
the  civilised  world.  First  they  came  down  into  Sogdiana  and  Kho- 
rasan,  and  the  country  below  it,  as  conquerors ;  they  continued  in 
it  as  subjects  and  slaves.  They  offered  their  services  to  the  race 
which  had  subdued  them;  they  made  their  way,  by  means  of  theii 
new  masters,  down  to  the  west  and  the  south  ;  they  laid  the  foun- 
dations for  their  supremacy  in  Persia  at  some  future  time,  and,  as 
to  the  provinces  which  they  had  formerly  occupied,  there  they  gra- 
dually rose  upwards  through  the  social  fabric  to  which  they  had 
been  admitted,  till  at  length  they  found  themselves  masters  of  them 
again.  The  sovereign  power  which  they  had  acquired  in  the  in- 
stance of  the  Gaznevides,  drifted  off  to  Hindostan  ;  but  still  fresh 
tribes  of  their  race  poured  down  from  the  north,  and  filled  up  the 
gap;  and  while  one  dynasty  of  Turks  was  established  in  the  penin- 
sula, a  second  dynasty  arose  in  the  former  seat  of  their  power. 

"  Now,  I  call  the  era  at  which  I  have  arrived  the  turning-point 
of  their  fortunes,  because,  when  they  had  descended  down  to  Kho- 
rasan  and  the  countries  below  it,  they  might  have  turned  to  the 
east  or  to  the  west  as  they  chose.  They  were  at  liberty  to  turn 
their  forces  against  their  kindred  in  Hindostan,  or  to  face  towards 
the  west,  and  make  their  way  thither  through  the  Saracens  of  Persia 
and  its  neighbouring  countries.  It  was  an  era  which  determined 
the  history  of  the  world.  I  recollect  once  hearing  a  celebrated 
professor  of  geology  attempt  to  draw  out  the  consequences  which 
would  have  occurred  had  tliere  not  been  an  outlet  for  the  Thames, 
which  exists,  in  fact,  at  a  certain  point  of  its  course.  He  said  that, 
had  tlie  range  of  hills  been  unbroken,  it  would  have  streamed  off  to 
the  north-east,  and  have  streamed  into  the  sea  at  the  Wash  in  Lin- 
colnshire. An  utter  change  in  tlie  political  events  which  came  after, 
another  history  of  England  and  nothing  short  of  it,  would  have  been 
the  result.  An  illustration  such  as  this  will  at  least  serve  to  express 
what  I  would  say  of  tlie  point  at  which  we  now  stand  in  the  history 
of  the  Turks.  Mahmood  turned  to  the  east ;  and  had  the  bar- 
barian tribes  which  successively  descended  done  the  same,  they 
might  have  conquered  the  Ghaznevide  dynasty,  they  might  have 
settled  themselves,  like  Timour,  at  Delhi,  and  their  descendant 
might  have  been  found  there  by  the  British  in  their  conquests 


escendant% 
;sts  duriij 


Catholic  Institutes,  381 

the  last  century;  but  they  would  have  been  unknown  to  Europe, 
they  would  have  been  strange  to  Constantinople,  they  would  have 
had  little  interest  for  the  Church.  They  rebelled  against  Mahmood, 
they  drove  his  family  to  the  East;  but  they  did  not  pursue  them 
thither ;  he  warned  them  off  the  rich  territory  he  had  appropriated ; 
he  was  the  obstacle  which  turned  the  stream  westward ;  they  looked 
towards  Persia,  where  their  brethren  had  been  so  long  settled,  and 
they  directed  their  course  for  good  and  all  towards  Europe." 

This,  of  course,  allies  itself  with  a  kindred  povi^er  already 
mentioned,  that  of  presenting  to  the  mind  brief  and  vigorous 
inductions  from  history,  and  sometimes  by  an  unusual  but 
(on  second  thoughts)  most  natural  juxta-position,  to  confirm 
or  illustrate  a  given  point.  Let  our  readers  take  the  follow- 
ing passages,  as  bearing  out  what  we  mean  to  express. 

"  No  race  casts  so  broad  and  dark  a  shadow  on  the  page  of  eccle- 
siastical history,  and  leaves  so  painful  an  impression  on  the  mind  of 
the  reader,  as  the  Turkish.  The  fierce  Godis  and  Vandals,  and 
then  again  the  Lombards,  were  converted  to  Catholicism.  The 
Franks  yielded  to  the  voice  of  St.  Remigius ;  and  Clovis,  their 
leader,  became  die  eldest  son  of  the  Church.  The  Anglo-Saxons 
.gave  up  their  idols  at  the  preaching  of  St.  Augustine  and  his  com- 
panions. The  German  tribes  acknowledged  Christ  amid  their  forests, 
though  they  martyred  St.  Boniface  and  other  English  and  Irish  mis- 
sionaries who  came  to  them.  The  Magyars  in  Hungary  were 
led  to  faith  through  loyalty  to  their  temporal  monarch,  their  royal 
missioner,  St.  Stephen.  The  heathen  Danes  reappear  as  the  chival- 
rous Normans,  the  haughty  but  true  sons  and  vassals  of  St.  Peter. 
The  Saracens  even,  who  gave  birth  to  an  imposture,  withered  awav 
at  the  end  of  300  or  400  years,  and  liad  not  the  power,  though  they 
had  the  will,  to  persevere  in  their  enmity  to  the  Cross.  The  Tartars 
had  both  the  will  and  the  power,  but  they  were  far  off  from  Chris- 
tendom, or  came  down  in  ephemeral  outbreaks,  which  were  rather 
those  of  freebooters  than  persecutors,  or  were  directed  as  often 
against  the  enemies  of  the  Church  as  against  her  children.  But 
the  unhappy  race  of  whom  I  am  speaking,  from  the  first  moment 
they  appear  in  the  history  of  Christendom,  are  its  unmitigated,  its 
obstinate,  its  consistent  foes.  They  are  inexhaustible  in  numbers, 
pouring  down  upon  the  South  and  West,  and  taking  one  and  the  same 
terrible  mould  of  misbelief,  as  they  successively  descend.  They  have 
the  populousness  of  the  North  with  the  fire  of  the  South  ;  the  re- 
sources of  Tartars,  with  the  fanaticism  of  Saracens.  And  when  their 
strength  declines,  and  age  steals  upon  them,  there  is  no  softening,  no 
misgiving ;  they  die  and  make  no  sign.  In  the  words  of  the  Wise 
Man,  *  Being  born,  they  forthwith  ceased  to  be ;  and  have  been  able 
to  show  no  mark  of  virtue,  but  are  consumed  in  wickedness.'  God's 
judgments,  God's  mercies,  are  inscrutable ;  one  nation  is  taken,  ano- 
ther is  left.     It  is  a  mystery ;  but  the  fact  stands ;  since  the  year 


382  Dr,  Newman's  Lectures  on  the  Turks  : 

10*48,  the  Turks  have  been  the  great  Antichrist  among  the  races  of 
men." 

Or  take  a  summary  of  the  relations  between  the  Crescent 
and  the  Tiara : 

"  War  with  the  Turks  was  his  [the  Pope's]  uninterrupted  cry  for 
seven  or  eight  centuries,  from  the  eleventh  to  the  eighteenth  ;  it  is 
a  solitary  and  unique  event  in  the  history  of  the  Church.  Sylvester 
TI.  was  the  originator  of  the  scheme  of  a  union  of  Christian  nations 
against  them.  St.  Gregory  VII.  collected  50,000  men  to  repel  them. 
Urban  II.  actually  set  in  motion  the  long  crusade.  Honorius  II.  in- 
stituted the  order  of  Knight  Templars  to  protect  the  pilgrims  from 
their  assaults.  Eugenius  III.  sent  St.  Bernard  to  preach  the  Holy 
War.  Innocent  III.  advocated  it  in  the  august  council  of  the  La- 
teran.  Nicholas  IV.  negotiated  an  alliance  with  the  Tartars  for  its 
prosecution.  Gregory  X.  was  in  the  Holy  Land  in  the  midst  of  it, 
with  our  Edward  I.,  when  he  was  elected  pope.  Urban  V.  received 
and  reconciled  the  Greek  emperor  with  a  view  to  its  renewal.  Inno- 
cent VI.  sent  the  Blessed  Peter  Thomas  the  Carmelite  to  preach  in 
its  behalf.  Boniface  IX.  raised  the  magnificent  army  of  French, 
Germans,  and  Hungarians,  who  fought  the  great  battle  of  Nicopolis. 
Eugenius  IV.  formed  the  confederation  of  Hungarians  and  Poles  who 
fought  the  battle  of  Varna.  Nicholas  V.  sent  round  St.  John  Ca- 
pistran  to  urge  the  princes  of  Christendom  against  the  enemy.  Cal- 
lixtus  HI.  sent  the  celebrated  Hunniades  to  fight  with  them.  Pius 
II.  addressed  to  their  sultan  an  apostolic  letter  of  warning  and  de- 
nunciation. Sixtus  IV.  fitted  out  a  fleet  against  them.  Innocent 
VIII.  made  them  his  mark  from  the  beginning  of  his  pontificate  to 
the  end.  St.  Pius  V.  added  the  *  Auxilium  Christianorum'  to  our 
Lady's  Litany,  in  thankfulness  for  his  victory  over  them.  Gregory 
XIII.,  with  the  same  purpose,  appointed  the  Festival  of  the  Rosary. 
Clement  IX.  died  of  grief  on  account  of  their  successes.  The  vene- 
rable Innocent  XI.  appointed  the  Festival  of  the  Holy  Name  of 
Mary,  for  their  rout  before  Vienna.  Clement  XII.  extended  the 
Feast  of  die  Rosary  to  the  whole  Church  for  the  great  victory  over 
^hem  near  Belgrade.  These  are  but  some  of  the  many  instances 
which  might  be  given;  but  they  are  enough  for  the  purpose  of  show- 
ing the  perseverance  of  the  popes." 

These  quotations,  we  think,  abundantl}'  establish  the  au- 
thor's claim  to  rank  as  an  accurate  and  powerful  historian.  We 
would  fain  have  had  space  to  cite  passages  of  a  lighter  kind, 
which  exhibit  him  as  the  graphic  narrator  of  scenes  and 
anecdotes  connected  with  the  different  Tartar  and  Ottoman 
conquerors  whom  it  was  his  office  to  introduce  to  us.  And 
as  a  specimen  of  a  higher  strain,  such  as  the  subject  demanded, 
we  cannot  but  notice  the  account  of  St.  Pius  V.  and  the 
battle  of  Lepanto,  which  closes  the  third  lecture.  For  all 
these  things,  and  many  other  beauties  which  we  are  compelled 


Catholic  Institutes.  383 

.0  leave   unnoticed,   our  readers   must   turn   to   the  volume 
itself. 

Apropos,  however,  of  beauties^  we  cannot  resist  just  trans- 
ferring to  our  paper  the  portrait  of  Attila.  The  traveller  to 
Rome,  who  has  been  accustomed  at  each  successive  visit  to 
St.  Peter's  to  lean  upon  the  massive  marble  rails  before  the 
altar  of  St.  Leo,  while  that  fine  alto-relievo  above  him, 
A-lgardi's  master-piece,  has  furnished  a  meditation  on  the 
superhuman  power  of  the  representative  of  St.  Peter,  driving 
:almly  back  with  a  majestic  wave  of  the  hand,  the  wild  but 
leroic  figure  that  represents  that  baffled  Scourge  of  God,  will 
be  cruelly  disappointed  as  he  reads  the  reality.  St.  Leo, 
doubtless,  may  have  been  in  outward  presence  what  he  was  in 
inward  power;  but  the  man  whom  he  subdued  seems  to  have 
possessed  no  quality  more  impressive  than  that  of  intense 
savagery,  unmitigated,  unadorned. 

"  As  the  Huns  were  but  reproductions  of  the  ancient  Scythians, 
50  are  they  reproduced  themselves  in  various  Tartar  races  of  modern 
:imes.  Tavernier,  the  French  traveller,  in  the  seventeenth  century, 
Tives  us  a  similar  description  of  the  Kahnuks,  some  of  whom  at  pre- 
sent are  included  in  the  Russian  empire.  '  They  are  robust  men,' 
he  says,  '  but  the  most  ugly  and  deformed  under  heaven;  a  face  so 
flat  and  broad,  that  from  one  eye  to  the  other  is  a  space  of  five  or 
six  fingers.  Their  eyes  are  very  small ;  the  nose  so  flat,  that  two 
small  nostrils  are  the  whole  of  it;  knees  turned  out,  feet  turned  in.' 

"  Attila  himself  did  not  degenerate  in  aspect  from  this  unlovely 
race;  for  an  historian  tells  us,  whom  I  have  already  made  use  of, 
that  'his  features  bore  the  stamp  of  his  national  origin;  and  the 
portrait  of  Attila  exhibits  the  genuine  deformity  of  a  modern  Kal- 
muck; a  large  head,  a  swarthy  complexion,  small  deep-seated  eyes, 
a  flat  nose,  a  few  hairs  in  the  place  of  a  beard,  broad  shoulders, 
and  a  short  square  body  of  nervous  strength,  though  of  a  dispro- 
portioned  form.'  I  should  add,  that  the  Tartar  eyes  are  not  only 
far  apart,  but  slant  inwards,  as  do  the  eyebrows,  and  are  partly  co- 
vered by  the  eyelid.  Now  Attila,  this  writer  continues,  '  had  a  cus- 
tom of  rolling  his  eyes,  as  if  he  wished  to  enjoy  the  terror  which  he 
inspired.'  " 

To  our  minds,  the  most  powerful  and  philosophical  portion 
of  this  book  is  the  first  part  of  the  fourth  lecture,  entitled 
.Barbarism  and  Civilisation,  in  which  the  author  draws  out 
the  essential  distinction  between  races  or  nations  barbarous 
and  civilised,  in  the  causes  which  ultimately  lead  to  their  fall 
and  extinction.  His  pervading  idea  is,  that  the  latter  decline 
from  internal  causes,  and  are  brought  to  naught  by  the  over- 
development of  the  very  elements  which  gave  them  being  and 
growth ;  while  the  former  remain  what  they  are  for  a  given 
time,  and  are  then  shattered  and  dispersed  from  without. 
The  conclusion  of  these  premises  is  obvious  as  regards  the 


384»  Dr.  Newman^ s  Lectures  on  the  Turks, 

prospects  of  the  Turkish  empire.  And  we  confess,  that  were 
we  loyal  subjects  of  that  realm,  we  should  not  feel  comfortable 
under  the  vivid  description  given  by  Dr.  Newman,  in  the 
third  part  of  his  last  lecture,  of  the  degree  to  which  the 
Turks  are  in  the  ivay^  and  are  felt  to  be  so,  of  the  civilised 
nations  on  every  side  of  them.  We  should  feel  ourselves 
manifestly  de  trop,  and  be  much  disposed,  like  a  clownish 
intruder  who  finds  himself  in  the  midst  of  a  polite  circle,  to 
look  about  for  some  fair  pretext  of  effecting  our  escape  to  a 
more  congenial  neighbourhood.  Rather  the  steppes  of  Tar- 
tary,  or  the  ruined  cities  of  Asia,  than  be  hustled  into  a 
corner  of  Europe,  and  even  that  invaded  by  younger  and 
more  active  powers  than  ourselves ;  the  toes  of  our  kahooshes 
trodden  upon  by  supercilious  tourists  and  bustling  diplo- 
matists, and  the  steam-engines  of  the  nineteenth  century  out- 
smoking  our  tranquil  pipes  and  damping  our  very  beards  with 
their  infidel  unquietness. 

It  only  remains  to  say  that  these  lectures  were  delivered, 
and  have  been  dedicated,  to  the  members  of  a  society  to 
which  we  heartily  wish  all  such  success  as  the  zeal  and  spirit 
of  their  founder  seem  likely  to  secure.  The  Catholic  Institute 
of  Liverpool  will,  we  trust,  gradually  become  the  model  of 
similar  institutions  in  other  of  our  large  commercial  and 
manufacturing  towns.  To  draw  together  the  young  men  of 
that  debatable  frontier  where  the  middle  classes  touch  upon 
the  higher;  to  give  them  topics  of  general  literary  interest, 
leavened  and  guided,  whether  more  or  less  visibly  and  con- 
sciously, with  true  religion  ;  to  convert  dangerous  leisure- 
hours  into  times  of  improving  recreation,  and  sanctify  the  spirit 
of  association  which  has  become  so  intensified  in  our  day,  by 
the  temper  of  a  Church-guild,  and  the  patronage  of  St.  Philip: 
all  this  is  no  slight  task,  and  if  effected,  no  slight  boon.  The 
Institute,  which  was  opened  in  Liverpool  last  year  by  the 
Cardinal  Archbishop,  has  already  been  the  means  of  other 
lectures  on  Catholic  subjects  being  written  and  printed.* 
And  we  cannot  doubt  that  in  this,  and  other  ways,  the  Rev. 
James  Nugent,  the  zealous  founder  of  this  infant  but  vigorous 
society,  will  have  the  consolation  of  seeing  much  fruit  from 
his  labours,  in  the  supply  of  two  among  our  most  crying 
needs — a  permanent  hold  upon  the  youth  of  our  middle  classes, 
and  the  promotion  of  a  sound  Catholic  literature.f 

*  E.  g.  two  recent  Clifton  Tracts  on  the  Inquisition,  and  on  the  AlbigensCB 
and  Waldenses.  Also  two  very  clever  and  interesting  popular  lectures  by  the 
Hev.  W.  H.  Anderdon,  answering  the  questions,  Is  there  a  Churchy  and  What 
is  ill     All  of  these  were  first  delivered  to  the  Liverpool  Catholic  Institute. 

f  We  beg  to  call  our  readers'attention  to  the  Circular  concerning  this  Institute, 
to  be  found  among  our  Advertisements. 


Short  Notices.  385 

An  institution  of  a  somewhat  similar  kind  has  been  esta- 
blished in  Cork;  and  we  are  delighted  to  learn  from  the  Second 
Half-yearly  Report  of  it,  which  has  reached  us,  that  it  is 
flourishing  even  beyond  the  most  sanguine  expectations  of  its 
founders.  We  take  a  very  special  interest  in  this  institute, 
having  reason  to  know  that  its  character,  if  not  determined, 
was  at  least  greatly  influenced  and  modified,  by  certain  articles 
which  appeared  in  our  own  journal  some  time  since.  In  form 
it  differs  somewhat  from  the  Liverpool  Institute,  as  also  in 
name,  being  called  the  Cork  Young  Men's  Society;  but  its 
objects  and  modes  of  action  are  in  substance  the  same.  "  Our 
Society,"  says  the  Report  before  us,  ''is  educational,  literary, 
social ;  but  above  all,  and  throughout  all,  it  aims  at  being- 
religious;"  and  as,  in  a  former  notice  of  this  society,  we  took 
exception  to  some  of  its  rules,  as  seeming  to  us  somewhat  too 
strict  in  the  matter  of  religious  observances,  we  feel  bound  to 
add,  that  we  have  since  learnt,  from  the  best  authority,  that 
this  strictness  has  been  found,  practically,  not  only  to  be  the 
chief  element  of  stability  in  the  undertaking,  but  even  of 
attraction.  We  are  informed  that  at  least  half  of  its  members 
are  now  monthly  communicants :  all  this  speaks  most  highly 
for  the  young  men  of  Cork,  and  of  course,  where  such  results 
can  be  obtained,  they  are  an  infinite  addition  to  the  literary 
and  educational  advantages  which  are  the  more  immediate 
and  obvious  fruits  of  these  institutes.  Our  limited  space  will 
not  allow  us  to  say  more  on  this  subject  at  present ;  but  its 
importance  becomes  daily  more  and  more  evident.  If  we  are 
to  maintain  our  position — still  more  if  we  are  to  make  any 
progress  —  among  the  rising  generation,  establishments  of  this 
kind,  modified  in  details  according  to  the  means  and  necessities 
of  the  various  localities,  must  industriously  be  multiplied. 
By  these  means  we  may  hope  to  see  springing  up  around 
us  a  Young  England  and  a  Young  Ireland  which  will  be  the 
salvation,  and  not  the  ruin,  of  their  countries. 


THEOLOGY,  PHILOSOPHY,  &c. 

The  Right  Rev.  Dr.  Ullathorne  has  addressed  A  Letter  to  Lord  Ed- 
^  ward  Howard  on  the  proposed  Committee  of  Lnquiry  into  Religious 
Communities  (London,  Richardson  and  Son),  in  which  he  exposes  the 
malice  of  the  Evangehcal  Alliance  and  of  their  tool,  Mr.  Chambers,  in 
their  proposal  to  limit  the  inquiry  to  the  cloistered  orders,  and  shows 
by  clear  statistics  that  of  these  orders  there  are  fewer  now  in  England 
VOL.  I. NEW  SERIES.  E  E 


386  Short  Notices. 

than  there  were  fifty  j-ears  ago.  T/ien  there  were  twenty-five  houses  of 
religious  women  keeping  enclosure  ;  no7v  there  are  only  eigliteen  ;  and  in 
eleven  of  these  there  can  certainly  be  no  mysterious  secrecy  wliich  could 
justify  the  interference  of  a  parliamentary  committee,  since  they  have 
large  boarding-schools  for  young  ladies  attached  to  them  ;  and  of  tlie 
remaining  seven,  at  least  four  teach  poor-schools.  If  facts  and  plain 
common  sense  could  make  any  impression  on  the  bigots  of  Westminster 
Hall,  this  pamphlet  ought  certainly  to  do  good  service. 

We  have  to  thank  a  lady  for  a  very  good  translation  of  a  valuable 
work, — Abridgment  of  the  Catechism  of  Perseverance  of  the  Abbe  Gaume, 
by  Miss  Lucy  Ward  (London,  Dolman).  The  merits  of  the  original 
work  are  too  well  known  to  render  it  necessary  for  us  to  say  any  thing 
in  its  praise.  The  present  translation  is  faitiiful  and  English,  and  is 
carefully  printed  in  good  clear  ty]je.  "  It  cannot  fail."  as  the  Bishop  ot 
Nottingham  truly  says  in  his  official  approbation  of  the  work,  '*  to  be 
of  great  general  utility  ;"  and  we  heartily  wish  it  success. 

Notes  at  Paris,  particularly  on  the  State  and  Prospects  of  PeVujion 
(London,  Ilivingtons),  is  a  small  and  shallow  book,  evidently  from  the 
pen  of  Dr.  Wordsworth,  who  published  a  larger  work  on  the  same  sub- 
ject, some  eight  or  ten  years  ago,  entitled  A  Diary  in  France.  It  is 
conceived  in  the  worst  spirit  of  petty  captiousness,  which  is  so  painful  a 
characteristic  in  some  of  the  latest  developments  of  Anglicanism.  We 
really  cannot  waste  words  on  a  man  who  can  gravel}'  make  such  asser- 
tions as  these,  that  "  the  result  of  the  Gorham  controversy  has  been  to 
make  the  truth  more  evident,  and  to  make  the  doctrine  of  baptism  be- 
come more  of  a  living,  abiding,  indwelling,  and  energetic  principle,  ex- 
ercising more  influence  on  education  and  conduct!"  that  "  the  day  may 
come  when  the  emperor  (Napoleon  I.)  will  be  canonised,  and  prayers 
be  addressed  to  him  as  to  a  present  deity,  and  that  many  things  be- 
token such  a  result ;"  that  "  an  air  of  liveliness  and  cheerfulness  on  the 
countenances  of  Protestant  Sisters  of  Mercy  in  Paris  presents  a  con- 
trast to  the  somewhat  gloomy  and  almost  abject  look  of  many  of  the 
members  of  similar  Roman  Catholic  institutions;"  that  the  names  o1 
"  Sisters  of  Mercy,  Sisters  of  Charity,  and  the  like,  savour  of  boldness, 
assumption,  and  uncharitableness ;  but  that  their  use  is  not  to  be  won- 
dered at,  since  it  is  too  much  the  practice  of  the  Roman  Church  in  France 
to  speculate  on  women's  weaknesses,  and  to  strengthen  herself  by 
them,  and  to  urge  them  to  works  of  charity  by  flattery  ;  but  that  thi? 
is  done  at  the  sacrifice  of  the  most  beautiful  and  holiest  graces  of  Chris- 
tian womanhood.  It  has  almost  swept  awaj-^  its  bloom!"  &c.  &c.  The 
ravings  of  Exeter  Hall  are  to  us  scarcely  so  loathsome  as  the  positive 
falsehoods  and  delicately-expressed  inuendos  of  a  writer  of  this  class. 

Justo  Jucundono,  Prince  of  Japan,  by  Piiilalethes  (Baltimore,  J 
Murphy;  London,  Dolman),  is  not,  as  its  title  would  lead  one  to  sup- 
pose, "  a  pretty  story,"  but  a  very  solid  and  somewhat  curious  piece  o 
controversial  theology,  in  the  shape  of  the  discussions  of  a  certaii 
general  council,  consisting  of  five  hundred  divines  "assembled  fron 
all  parts  of  the  world,  and  embracing  representatives  of  every  known  re 
ligious  sect !"  The  author  has  not'favoured  us  with  the  "prosings"  o 
every  one  of  these  eccentric  divines,  but  he  has  given  us  very  deep  an( 
learned  arguments  from  the  mouths  of  the  more  important  among«i 
them  ;  first  for  religion  generally  (against  atheists),  then  for  the  worshij 
of  one  God  (against  polytheism),  next  for  Christianity  (against  Jews 
Mahometans,  &c.),  and  finally  for  Catholicity  (against  any  and  everj 


Short  Notices.  387 

sect  of  Protestantism).     The  arguments  are  put  in  a  masterly  way,  but 
we  wish  the  author  had  chosen  a  better  title. 

We  have  already,  in  the  course  of  this  Number,  had  occasion  to 
notice  the  Rev.  W.  H.  Anderdon's  two  lectures  delivered  at  Liverpool, 
entitled  Is  there  a  Church,  and  What  is  it?  (Burns  and  Lambert.)  In 
the  first,  the  author  undertakes  to  prove  that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  a 
Church  upon  earth  ;  and  his  topics  of  proof  are  two:  first,  the  neces- 
sity of  the  case  ;  and  secondly,  the  testimony  of  those  who  lived  during 
the  time  of  the  Church's  early  life  and  growth.  In  the  second,  he  un- 
dertakes to  prove  that  this  Church  is  not  a  Protestant  body  ;  a  fact 
which  hardly  needed  argument  indeed,  but  which  we  cannot  regret 
that  the  reverend  author  made  the  subject  of  a  distinct  lecture,  so  much 
pleasure  have  we  derived  from  its  perusal.  These  lectures  are  emi- 
nently the  language  of  plain,  practical  common  sense,  pervaded  through- 
out by  a  vein  of  quiet  humour,  and  occasionally  enlivened  by  a  more 
undisguised  touch  of  keen  yet  just  satire.  They  are  calculated  to  do 
great  good,  we  imagine,  among  sober-minded  and  thoughtful  Protes- 
tants. 

State  Rationalism  in  Education,  by  the  Rev.  H.  Formby  (Dublin, 
T.  Dufi^y ;  London,  Burns  and  Lambert),  is  an  examination  into  the 
actual  working  and  results  of  the  system  of  the  Board  of  Commissioners 
3f  National  Education  in  Ireland,  by  an  English  priest,  who  has  re- 
3ently  returned  from  a  tour  in  that  country;  during  which  he  visited  a 
number  of  poor  schools,  both  National  and  Catholic,  and  was  greatly 
shocked  by  the  compromise  and  the  suppression  of  religious  truth  and 
practice,  which  appeared  to  be  an  essential  characteristic  of  the  former. 
Many  both  of  his  facts  and  arguments  will  be  new  and  striking  to  the 
English  reader,  perhaps  also  to  some  Irish  readers.  The  question  at 
issue  is  most  important ;  and  since  the  National  system  seems  to  give 
no  real  satisfaction  either  to  Catholics  or  Protestants,  it  is  far  from 
being  an  unpractical  one.  We  cannot  at  present  enter  into  an  exami- 
nation of  the  difiiculties  with  which  it  is  beset ;  but  we  can  recommend 
Mr.  Formby's  pamphlet,  as  containing  a  plain  exposition  of  the  princi- 
pal objections  which  lie  against  the  National  system,  and  as  well  de- 
serving a  careful  perusal. 


MISCELLANEOUS  LITERATURE. 

Lectures  on  Ancient  Ethnography  and  Geography,  by  B.  G.  Niebuhr, 
:ranslated  by  Dr.  Leonhard  Schmitz,  F.R.S.E.,  Rector  of  the  High 
5chool  of  Edinburgh.  (London,  Walton  and  Maberly.  2  vols.)  Any 
:hing  of  Niebuhr's  must  be  valuable  ;  but  we  have  found  these  volumes 
ess  so  than  we  expected.  The  ethnographical  details  are  somewhat 
3uperficial,  but  the  geographical  part  is  excellent.  The  book  is  often 
mlivened  by  sketches  of  personal  or  national  character.  The  author's 
estimate  of  Lucien  Bonaparte,  the  Prince  of  Canino,  with  wdiom  he  is 
;^ery  angry  for  not  carrying  on  the  excavations  atTusculum,  is  amusing : 
*  He  has  no  interest  for  any  thing  except  works  of  art,  statues  and  the 
iike;  and  it  is  impossible  to  make  him  see  the  importance  of  the  re- 
naains  of  antiquity.  He  has  the  most  unhistorical  mind,  and  is  unable 
Si  understand  of  what  interest  antiquities  can  be  to  history :  the  most 
beautiful  things  have  been  sold  by  him.     He  is  one  of  those  men  who 


388  Short  Notices, 

enjoy  a  liigh  degree  of  celebrity  without  deserving  it ;  he  is  lively,  but 
absurd,  and  an  extremely  bad  epic  poet.  He  has  laid  out  a  garden  on 
a  hill,  and  on  a  box-tree  in  it  he  has  inscribed  in  order  the  names  of  tlie 
greatest  epic  poets,  beginning  near  the  root.  Out  of  modesty  he  has 
put  his  own  name  lowest,  and  ascends  up  to  Homer."  To  have  au 
unhistorical  mind  is  evidently  with  Niebuhr  "  flat  burglary." 

"We  are  glad  to  see  a  People's  Edition  oi  Dr.  Lingard's  History  of 
England  (London,  C.  Dolman),  to  be  completed  in  sixt}'^  weekly  parts. 
We  wish,  however,  that  it  had  not  been  printed  in  that  small  double- 
column  style,  which  is  now  happily  almost  obsolete  ;  we  hope  also  that 
the  frontispiece  is  not  to  be  taken  as  a  fair  sample  of  the  numerous  illus- 
trations which  we  are  promised,  for  it  strikes  us  as  any  thing  rather 
than  an  ''  embellishment."  This  edition  will  contain  all  the  latest  ad- 
ditions and  corrections  that  were  made  by  the  learned  author  in  the 
edition  he  published  shortly  before  his  death  ;  and  it  is  to  be  hoped  that 
its  cheapness  will  secure  it  a  jjlace  in  all  our  lending-libraries  and  other 
similar  institutions. 

AVe  have  reason  to  believe  that  Ince^s  Outlines  of  English  History 
(J.  Gilbert,  Paternoster  Row),  are  used  as  a  class-book  in  some  Catholic 
schools  and  families.  For  a  Protestant  book,  it  is  remarkably  fair  and 
unprejudiced,  so  that  we  can,  in  some  degree  at  least,  afford  to  congra- 
tulate the  author  on  its  extensive  circulation — the  copy  before  us  is  said 
to  be  of  the  sixty-fifth  thousand ;  occasionally,  however,  the  traditions 
of  Pi'otestantisra  make  their  appearance,  and  are  allowed  to  displace 
the  facts  of  history,  e.  g.  Mary  I.  is  represented  as  having  few  qualities 
either  estimable  or  amiable,  and  "  revenge  and  tyranny"  are  said  to 
have  been  ^'  her  too  prevailing  features  j"  and  the  persecutions  of  her 
reign  are  falsely  attributed  to  herself. 


The  Heir  of  Bedclyffe  (Parker  and  Son)  ;  The  Two  Guardians; 
Henriettas  Wish  (Masters) ;  Kenneth.  These  are  some  of  the  most 
charming  little  works  of  their  kind  which  we  have  ever  read.  The  class 
of  books  to  which  they  belong  is  one  which  has  but  latelj',  compara- 
tively speaking,  sprung  up  among  us  ;  but  which  is  at  present  extr€^mely 
popular :  it  occupies  a  middle  place  between  the  mere  child's  story-book 
and  the  regular  novel ;  and  is  intended  chiefly  for  the  amusement  and 
instruction  of  young  people,  more  especially  girls,  who  are 

**  Standing  with  reluctant  feet, 
Where  the  brook  and  river  meet, 
Womanhood  and  childhood  fleet." 

Accordingly  the  subject-matter  of  these  books  is  found  in  the  outward 
and  inward  life  of  very  young  people  ;  and  as  life  in  that  early  stage  is 
generally,  especially  in  the  case  of  girls,  so  sheltered  and  hedged  round 
by  the  controlling  influences  of  home  as  to  be  little  exposed  to  external 
vicissitude,  its  real  sphere  is  the  inward  world  of  thought  and  feeling: 
unlike  the  regular  novel,  therefore,  these  books  for  the  most  part  pre- 
sent us  with  no  very  stirring  incident,  but  trace  the  development  of 
character  through  ordinary  circumstances.  Some  of  the  first  works  of 
this  class  which  became  popular,  were  those  edited  by  Mr.  Sewell, 
"  Laneton  Parsonage,"  "  Amy  Herbert,"  "  Gertrude,"  and  others;  all 
works  of  considerable  ability,  but  with  a  certain  character  of  stiffness 
and  dryness  about  them,  partly  drawn  from  the  dreary  theology  they  in- 


Short  Notices,  389 

culcate,  wlucli  is  to  us  so  great  a  drawback,  that  we  are  inclined  to  wonder 
;;t  their  having  been  so  successful.  Of  the  works  whose  titles  stand  at 
the  head  of  this  notice,  some  of  the  earlier  ones  {The  Two  Guardians 
for  instance)  have  the  same  defect :  and  in  all  the  Puseyite  spirit  is 
sufficiently  perceptible  to  detract  considerably  from  tlieir  beauty  as  well 
as  from  their  usefulness.  But  there  is  an  elegance  of  conception,  a  de- 
licacy in  the  delineation  and  working  out  of  the  different  characters,  an 
niry  gracefulness  in  the  conversations,  and  an  artistic  skill  in  giving 
the  personages  a  real  existence  in  our  minds,  which  are  most  charming. 
21ic  Heir  of  Redclyffe,  however,  we  consider  very  much  superior  to 
any  of  the  others  ;  indeed,  we  have  seldom  read  so  delightful  a 
story  ;  not  that  the  plot,  if  it  can  be  said  to  have  any,  is  particularly- 
well  managed,  perhaps  rather  the  contrary  ;  at  all  events,  there  are  de- 
fects in  it  which  show  manifestly  that  the  book  is  written  by  a  lady,  and 
V,  c  should  say  rather  a  young  lady  ;  but  the  idea  of  the  main  character,  the 
Heir  of  Redclyffe  himself,  is  both  original  and  strikingly  beautiful ;  and 
very  lovelv,  though  not  so  thoroughly  life-like,  is  that  of  the  sweet  little 
heroine;  while  the  contrast  of  the  other  pair^  who  stand  as  it  were  over 
against  these,  is  aduiirable  ;  and  the  clear-seeing,  irritable,  sick  brother, 
with  the  gentle,  judicious,  sympathising  mamma,  fill  out  the  canvas  in 
a  way  which  leaves  us  nothing  to  desire.  Another  peculiar  charm  in 
the  book  is  a  little  halo  of  the  highest  and  purest  kind  of  romance  thrown 
round  the  small  incidents  of  daily  life,  and  that  so  skilfully  as  not  to  give 
them  any  thing  ot  a  far-fetched  or  improbable  character,  and  the  deli- 
cately indicated  analogy  between  the  character  and  destiny  of  the  Heir 
of  Redclyffe  and  Lamotte  Fouque's  Sintram  ;  the  foreign  artist's  sketch- 
ing his  face  for  an  imaginative  picture  of  Sir  Galahad,  and  the  allusions 
to  a  kind  of  destiny,  the  punishment  of  ancestral  sin,  hanging  over  his 
family.  Another  thing  we  very  much  admire  is  the  successful  way  in 
which  the  authoress  has  contrived  to  make  us  not  only  submit  to  what 
would  be  called  a  melancholy  termination  of  the  book,  but  welcome  it 
as  we  might  a  sorrow  to  ourselves,  for  the  sake  of  the  moral  good  it 
works  or  develops.  The  point  of  the  book  is,  the  contrast  between  a 
dry,  systematic,  secretly  conceited  piece  of  perfection,  who,  having  been 
always  respected  and  looked  up  to,  has  gained  a  quiet  belief  in  his  own 
infallibility,  and  placidly  lays  down  the  law  for  all  around  him,  with  a 
character  of  strong  impulses,  acute  sensibilities,  and  intense  conscien- 
tiousness, coupled  with  the  strongest  power  of  self-discipline,  and  at  the 
same  time  entire  unconsciousness  of  its  own  excellence.  One  thing, 
however,  we  must  remark  by  the  by  ;  that  the  first  of  these  characters, 
Philip,  the  conceited  [)iece  of  perfection,  is  one  which  it  would  be  next 
to  impossible  to  find  among  Catholics,  and  therefore  one  which,  except 
to  those  among  us  who  have  associated  much  with  Protestants,  especially 
Puseyites,  will  not  perhaps  appear  natural.  The  constant  practice  of 
confession,  which  a  man.  such  as  Philip  is  represented  to  be,  really  con- 
scientious, would  not  fail,  if  a  Catholic,  to  have  recourse  to,  would  very 
soon  clear  away  the  scales  from  his  moral  vision  :  besides  that,  even  the 
most  ordinary  Catholics  are  in  the  habit  of  studying,  in  the  lives  of  the 
saints,  models  so  very  far  above  tliem,  and  of  a  character  so  altogether  su- 
pernatural, that  they  can  scarcely  rate  their  own  performances  very  high, 
when  they  have  nothing  more  to  show  than  a  regularly  ordered  life,  and 
"what  they  may  consider  a  well-disciplined  mind.  We  don't  mean,  of 
course,  that  there  are  no  such  things  as  conceited  Catholics  :  Catholics, 
like  other  people,  are  liable  to  be  vain  of  beauty,  or  talent,  or  rank,  or 
wealth,  or  any  other  such  worldly  advantages;  and,  of  course,  even  the 
most  devout  of  them  are  by  no  means  exempt  from  the  danger  of  spi- 


390  Short  Notices, 

ritual  pride  ;  but  what  we  mean  is,  that  the  self-relyinsr,  eompass-aud- 
rule  sort  of  character  embodied  in  Philip,  is  one  of  which  the  specimens 
are  happily  scarce  among  us.  That  of  Guy,  on  the  other  hand,  has 
much  in  it  that  is  Catholic ;  though  even  there  we  cannot  help  feeling 
what  a  high  blessing  he  would  have  found  in  the  mild  governance  of 
the  Church,  and  how  comparatively  easy  the  over-mastering  grace  of 
her  sacraments  would  have  rendered  his  struggles  against  the  fierce  na- 
ture he  had  inherited.  Our  readers  will  see  that  we  are  speaking  of 
Guy  and  Philip,  and  almost  praying  for  their  conversion,  as  if  they 
were  real  people  ;  a  mistake  for  which  our  best  apology  must  be  to  beg 
them  to  make  acquaintance  with  these  personages  themselves  ;  and  then, 
if  they  are  too  wise  to  pray  for  these  creatures  of  the  fancy,  they  may 
transfer  their  prayers  to  the  account  of  the  fair  and  beautifully-gifted 
authoress,  which  is  the  least  we  can  do  in  return  for  the  present  she  has 
made  to  our  literature. 

The  little  Duke,  or  Richard  the  Fearless,  by  the  author  of  the  "  Heir 
of  Redclyffe"  (Parker  and  Son,  London),  is  a  beautiful  little  story. 
There  is  no  preface  to  it  to  tell  us  on  what  it  is  founded,  but  it  gives 
one  the  idea  of  having  been  amplified  from  an  old  chronicle  or  series  of 
ballads,  and  it  has  the  fresh  charm  which  belongs  to  writings  of  this 
character.  The  spirit  of  it,  too,  is  thoroughly  Catholic,  except  only  that 
we  must  protest  against  the  Mass  being  always  designated  as  "  the  ser- 
vice," the  "Holy  Communion  service,"  "morning  service  in  the 
chapel,"  which  we  consider  as  a  Puseyite  affectation  quite  unworthy  of 
the  author.  These,  however,  are  mere  specks ;  and  altogether  we  can 
cordiallj^  recommend  the  book  to  Catholic  parents,  as  one  in  every  way 
unobjectionable,  and  particularly  attractive  to  children. 

The  Progress  of  a  Painter  in  the  Nineteenth  Century,  containing 
conversations  and  remarks  upon  art,  by  John  Burnet,  author  of"  Hints 
upon  Painting,"  &c.  (London,  Bogue).  "  Miscuit  utile  duici"  is  a  very 
good  motto  for  those  who  cheat  children  into  taking  their  medicine  by 
mixing  up  the  powders  in  jam  ;  but  we  feel  some  disgust  at  a  person 
who  coolly  tells  us  grown  men  and  women  that  what  he  has  to  communi- 
cate is  so  deep  and  difficult  that  he  does  not  think  we  can  ever  fathom 
its  profundities  unless  he  envelops  it  in  a  vehicle  suited  to  our  intellec- 
tual digestion,  especially  when  the  vehicle,  as  in  this  case,  is  a  series  of 
deadly-lively  dinner  or  tea-table  conversations,  strung  on  the  thread  of 
a  trivial  story,  the  moral  of  which  appears  to  be,  that  in  order  to  be  a 
painter  it  is  necessary  to  be  a  Scotchman,  The  technicalities  of  the  art 
are  no  doubt  very  good  in  themselves  ;  but  concerning  the  book  as  a 
whole,  we  cannot  help  agreeing  with  the  author's  own  estimate  of  its 
value,  when  he  calls  it  "  a  feeble  attempt,  which  lie  throws  upon  a 
favourable  construction  by  the  public." 

Journal  of  a  Cruise  among  the  Islands  of  the  JVestem  Pacific,  in 
H.  M.  S.  Havannah,  by  J.  E.  Erskine,  Capt.  R.N.  (London,  Murray^. 
We  feel  bound  to  mention  this  book,  as  giving  an  apparently  authentic 
account  of  considerable  progress  made  by  the  Wesleyan  missionaries  in 
converting  the  savages  of  these  islands  to  their  own  superstition.  At 
present  their  success  has  been  numerically  greater  than  that  of  the  Ca- 
tholics; but  it  must  be  remembered  that  they  were  the  first  comers, 
that  their  numbers  and  wealth  are  much  greater,  tliat  they  are  sup- 
ported by  all  the  prestige  of  the  English  and  American  naval  and  mer- 
cantile marine,  and  that  they  are  sadly  unscrupulous  in  what  thoy  say 
of  the  Catholic  missionaries.  M.  Calinon.  the  priest  of  the  Tongan  Is- 
lands, complained  that  some  of  them  had  denounced  the  Catholics  as 
men  who  had  been  obliged  to  fly  their  own  country,  and  were  habitually 


SJiort  Notices.  391 

addicted  to  every  description  of  vice  and  immoralit}'.  Our  author's  test 
of  the  success  of  these  missionaries  is  the  gradual  extinction  of  cannibal- 
ism. NVith  regard  to  any  further  development  in  civilisation,  he  does 
not  seem  to  expect  much  from  the  followers  of  John  Wesley;  in  fact, 
he  rather  des|)ises  them  and  tlieir  journals;  of  these  he  writes  (p.  279): 
"To  say  nothing  of  a  phraseology  which  is  always  repugnant  to  Eng- 
lish readers  of  ordinary  taste,  some  of  the  accounts  lately  published  by- 
members  of  the  Wesleyan  body,  (who,  leading  for  the  greater  part  of 
their  time  easy  lives  in  New  Zealand,  consider  a  periodical  visitation  of 
their  working  brethren  a  task  of  severe  hardship,)  are  so  full  of  exag- 
gerated accounts  of  the  ordinary  dangers  and  privations  of  a  sea- voyage, 
unfounded  insinuations  of  a  want,  of  protection  and  sympathy  on  the 
part  of  the  small  naval  force  in  these  seas,  and  aggravations  of  the  diffi- 
culties under  which  the  business  of  the  mission  is  carried  on,  as  to  repel 
the  reader  who  desires  information  on  subjects  of  more  interest  and 
importance;  whilst  tedious  accounts  of  love-feasts,  and  of  miraculous 
interferences  in  favour  of  the  Christians  against  their  sj^iritual  ene- 
mies, might  almost  induce  one  to  suppose  that  the  effect  of  missionary 
success  would  only  be  the  supplanting  of  the  old  superstitions  of  the 
natives  by  almost  equally  gross  delusions  of  their  own." 

The  following  is  a  specimen  of  the  savage  logic  of  a  cannibal:  "A 
young  man  in  one  of  the  Feejee  islands  once  pretended  to  be  a  priest, 
in  order  to  obtain  food.  His  imposture  was  so  successful,  that  he  made  a 
line  trade  of  it,  and  came  out  as  a  great  man.  The  chief  sent  for  him, 
and  said  to  him:  '  Who  are  you  that  you  should  set  up  priest,  and 
make  yourself  somebody?  I  will  kill  you  and  eat  you  to-day;  and  if 
your  god  be  a  true  god,  he  will  eat  me.'  And  he  was  as  good  as  his 
word  too;  for  he  clubbed  him  on  the  spot,  put  him  into  an  oven,  and 
baked  and  ate  him.  He  had  to  eat  him  alone,  as  the  people  dare  not 
eat  a  priest"  (p.  251).  It  is  not  stated  whether  the  poor  young  man's 
god  did  or  did  not  kill  and  eat  the  chief  in  return. 

The  History  of  Yucatan,  from  its  discovenj  to  the  close  of  the  Seven- 
teenth Century,  by  C.  St.  John  Fancourt,  Esq.,  recently  H.  M.  Super- 
intendent of  the  British  Settlements  in  the  bay  of  Honduras  (London, 
Murray),  is  an  able  and  unprejudiced  compilation  from  the  almost  un- 
known Spanish  writers  on  the  discovery  and  first  colonisation  of  Central 
America.     The  conduct  of  tiie  Conquistadors  towards  the  Indians  is  re- 

E resented  in  a  much  better  light  than  by  the  general  run  of  English 
istorians,  and,  on  the  whole,  contrasts  favourably  with  the  conduct  of 
Anglo-Saxon  settlers  in  similar  circumstances. 

The  Divine  Comedy  of  Dante;  rendered  into  English  by  F.  Pollock, 
Esq.,  with  illustrations  by  G-  Scharfe,  jun.  (London,  Chapman  and 
Hall).  Mr.  Pollock  has  attempted  in  this  translation  to  make  each  line 
a  representation  of  the  corresponding  verse  of  the  original,  and  even  to 
retain  the  order  of  the  words ;  he  has  also  shown  a  very  laudable  care 
not  to  dilute  the  vigorous  words  of  Dante,  or  to  insert  epithets.  The 
opening  of  the  lirst  canto  of  the  "  Infern(j"  fully  warrants  the  professions 
of  the  translator;  and  if  the  whole  had  been  rendered  in  the  sanie  way, 
this  would  have  been  by  far  the  best  English  transcript  of  the  great 
Florentine  poet.  But  in  parts,  especially  in  the  philosophical  questions, 
which  occupy  so  large  a  portion  of  the  "  Purgatory"  and  the  "  Para- 
dise," Mr.  Pollock  fails  sadly.  lie  neither  represents  the  meaning  of 
the  original,  nor  supplies  any  intelligible  sense  in  its  place ;  where 
Dante  gives  us  at  least  philosophy,  if  not  poetry,  Mr.  Pollock  gives  us 
neither  rhyme  nor  reason.     The  fact  is,  that  to  translate  Dante,  a  man 


392  Short  Notices, 

should  be  a  good  metaphysician  as  well  as  a  poet ;  if  he  does  not  under- 
stand the  philosophy  of  St.  Thomas,  he  cannot  render  the  poetry  of 
Dante  intelligible.  Mr.  Pollock  does  not  understand  this  philosophy, 
and  therefore  he  makes  nonsense  of  the  poetry.  For  instance,  Inferno, 
canto  3,  Dante  talks  of  the  wicked  having  lost  "il  ben  dell'  intelletto," 
i.e.  God,  as  the  final  end,  or  chief  good  of  the  rational  soul;  "  the  in- 
telligible good ;"  Mr.  Pollock  makes  this  good  simply  subjective,  and 
calls  it  '*  the  good  gifts  of  the  mind."  So,  again,  when  Dante  speaks  of 
the  soul  being  aroused  by  pleasure  into  act,  Mr.  Pollock  dilutes  the 
technical  phrase  into  "waking  to  pleased  activity."  (Purg.  18.)  But 
we  will  give  a  connected  passage  :  Dante,  in  Purgatory,  cant.  17,  shows 
that  sins  there  punished  arise  from  a  misdirected  love.  "  Love,"  he 
says,  ''is  either  instinctive  (natural),  or  deliberate  (of  the  mind);  the 
former  admits  not  error.  The  other  may  err,  either  in  its  object  or 
in  its  amount."     Then  Mr.  Pollock  proceeds: 

"  While  it  is  well  directed  primally, 

Or  secondarily  restrains  itself, 

It  cannot  be  the  cause  of  wicked  joy. 

But  when  it  turns  to  ill,  or  with  more  zeal 

Or  less  than  should  be,  after  good  it  runs, 

Against  the  Maker — then  the  thing  made  works. 

Hence  thou  mayest  understand  how  needs  must  be 

Love  the  seed  in  you  of  all  excellence, 

And  of  all  acts  deserving  punishment. 

Further,  since  cannot  from  the  benefit 

Of  its  own  subject,  love  be  ever  turned, 

From  hating  of  themselves  all  things  are  safe ; 

And  because  cannot  in  division  life, 

Or  standing  by  itself,  what  comes  from  God, 

From  hating  Him  all  passion  is  shut  out." 
These  few  lines  sufficiently  demonstrate  the  hopelessness  of  being 
able  to  retain  the  order  of  the  lines  and  words,  and  yet  to  preserve  the 
sense.  Though  in  this  instance,  we  think  a  little  more  familiarity  with 
philosophical  studies  would  have  enabled  the  translator,  even  with  his 
own  canons  of  translation,  at  least  to  avoid  talking  nonsense.  For  in- 
stance, in  the  first  two  lines,  which  look  so  enigmatical,  Dante  simply 
says,  "when  love  is  well  directed  in  the  first"  {i.  e.  in  its  ends  or  ob- 
jects), "and  in  the  second"  (its  amount  of  vigour)  "moderates  itself," 
it  cannot  occasion  a  guilty  delight. 

Again,  nothing  can  be  more  barbarous  than  the  fourth  and  fifth 
trij)lets,  nor  more  unsuggestive  of  the  meaning  of  the  Italian.  Dante 
says  nearly  word  for  word  as  follows : 

"  Now  since  love  cannot  from  the  happiness 

Of  its  own  subject  ever  turn  its  gaze. 

From  hating  self  all  beings  are  secure. 

And  since  we  cannot  think  that  aught,  cut  off 

From  the  first  cause,  can  by  itself  subsist, 

From  hating  Him  is  all  affection  barred." 
He  means,  that  the  first  error  of  love  is  the  choice  of  a  wrong  object, 
namely,  evil  instead  of  good  ;  but  no  person  capable  of  loving  can  desire 
his  own  misery  and  evil;  therefore,  it  is  not  possible  absolutely  to  hate 
oneself,  or  to  love  one's  own  evil  for  its  own  sake.  Again,  nothing  can 
be  conceived  to  exist  absolutely  separated  from  God  ;  therefore  nothing 
can  desire  this  absolute  separation  ;  therefore  no  being  can  hate  God  as 
the  Creator  and  Preserver.  It  remains,  then,  that  if  we  love  evil,  it 
must  be  our  neighbour's  evil  that  we  love;  and  this  misdirected  love  is 
either  anger,  hatred,  or  envy.    Such  is  the  meaning  which  is  quite  clear 


Sfiort  Notices.  393 

on  the  surface  of  the  Italian  ;  it  would  puzzle  us  to  extract  it  from  Mr. 
Pollock's  translation,  Avithout  looking  at  tlje  original. 

Mr.  Pollock  is  more  successful  in  passages  of  passion ;  in  fact,  in 
what  must  be  owned  to  be  the  real  poetry  of  Dante.  In  such  places  he 
often  expresses  himself  as  felicitously  as  we  could  desire.  On  the  whole, 
we  can  only  praise  the  industry  and  good  taste  which  could  lead  a  man 
to  spend  so  much  time  on  a  poet  who  will  never  be  popular  in  England  ; 
and  we  only  lament,  that  as  he  has  often  succeeded  so  well,  he  should 
have,  in  other  passages,  laid  himself  open  to  the  blame  which  we  have 
found  it  necessarj''  to  award  to  him.  VVe  yet  want  a  translation  of 
Dante  by  a  Catholic  who  understands  the  theology  and  philosophy  of 
which  his  works  are  full. 

With  regard  to  Mr.  Scharfe's  illustrations,  distimjuendum  est.  Those 
from  the  old  Italian  masters  are  really  what  they  profess  to  be;  those 
from  Flaxraan  could  easily  be  spared :  they  are  all  carefully  executed 
in  outline. 

Spanish  Literature,  by  Alex.  F.  Foster  (Edinburgh,  Chambers),  is  a 
tolerably  well-executed  sketch  of  the  different  periods  of  so  much  of 
Spanish  literature  as  is  contained  in  its  poetry  and  prose  romances. 
Of  its  deep  theology  and  philosophy  the  author  is  completely  ignorant. 
It  is  not  to  be  expected  that  we  can  recommend  a  book  whose  object  is 
*'  briefly  to  trace  the  early  yjrogress  of  the  Spanish  intellect,  and  to 
mark  its  premature  decay  under  the  blighting  influence  of  civil  and  re- 
ligious despotism."  The  author  culls  a  few  flowers  of  poetry  and  fancy, 
and  then  regrets  that  "  little  of  a  more  substantial  nature  was  pro- 
duced." The  substantial  literature  of  the  countrymen  of  Balmez  cannot 
be  so  meagre  as  this  one-sided  writer  would  persuade  us.  In  fact,  we 
have  but  just  noticed  a  very  interesting  book,  which  is  almost  entirely 
compiled  from  Spanish  histories  of  the  conquest  of  Mexico. 

Stum  ping  ford,  a  Tale  of  the  Protestant  Alliance ;  Jonah;  and  La 
Salette  (Ricfiardson  and  Son),  is  a  most  clever  and  amusing  little  tale — 
a  true  tale  of  the  times.  We  do  not  mean  that  the  incidents  narrated  in 
these  pages  have  any  where  happened  precisely  in  the  order  and  manner 
here  recorded;  but  they  are  such  as  might  have  happened  in  any  town 
in  England,  and  something  very  like  what  actually  has  happened 
within  the  last  two  or  three  years.  The  vein  of  satire  which  runs 
through  the  whole  book,  especially  the  earlier  and  latter  portions  of  it, 
is  irresistibly  ludicrous;  and  yet  the  tale  is  ?i picture  of  the  times,  not  a 
caricature.  Indeed,  it  is  the  truth  of  the  satire  which  gives  it  all  its 
point.  The  conversion  and  death  of  the  hero  are  most  skilfully  managed, 
and  very  effectively  told.  In  a  word,  we  have  both  laughed  and  cried 
over  these  pages.  Need  we  say  more  to  recommend  them  to  our 
readers  ? 

We  cordially  agree  with  Mr.  T.  A.  Buckley,  in  his  estimate  both  of 
the  usefulness  and  the  entertaining  nature  of  the  plan  of  teaching 
history  which  he  has  adopted  in  his  Ancient  Cities  of  the  World  (Rout- 
ledge):  not,  of  course,  as  a  means  of  teaching  history  to  the  real  bond 
fide  student,  but  as  furnishing  others  with  certain  general  outlines, 
which  may  "  be  filled  up  by  the  gradual  maturing  of  their  own  thoughts 
and  reading  in  historic  lore."  This  book  is  intended  *' as  a  reading- 
book  rather  than  a  school  book;"  and  contains  lively  historical  sketches 
of  Babylon,  Nineveh,  Damascus,  Tyre,  Petra,  Peking,  Jerusalem, 
Athens,  Rome,  &c.  It  is  a  good  book  for  lending-libraries  of  the 
better  class.  The  Great  Cities  of  the  Middle  Ages,  by  the  same  author, 
and  on  the  same  plan,  cannot  be  recommended  to  Catholics.  It  suggests 


394  Short  Notices, 

ao  admirable  idea,  however,  whicb  we  should  be  glad  to  see  taken  up 
and  acted  upon  by  some  competent  Catholic  writer. 

Natural  History  in  Stories,  by  M.  S.  C;  and  Pretty  Poll,  a  parrot's 
own  history  (Addey  and  Co.),  are  charming  little  books  tor  little  people. 
Mrs.  Loudon's  Young  Naturalist's  Journey  is  of  the  same  kind,  only  of 
more  pretensions,  and  suited  to  children  of  a  more  advanced  age.  It  is 
full  of  interesting  stories  of  natural  history,  which  have  the  very  great 
advantage,  the  authoress  assures  us,  of  being  "strictly  true." 

A  Year  with  the  Turks,  or  Sketches  of  Travel  in  the  European  and 
Asiatic  Doininions  of  the  Sultan,  by  Warington  W.  Smyth,  iNI.  A.  (Lon- 
don, J.  W.  Parker).  A  very  good  book  of  travels  in  itself,  indepen- 
dently of  its  present  interest.  The  author  has  given  an  ethnograptiical 
map,  showing  the  distribution  of  the  different  races  in  the  dominions  of 
the  Sultan,  Avhich  will  be  found  useful  by  many  readers. 

Lady  Lee's  Widowhood,  by  Edward  Bruce  Hamley,  Capt.  R.A. 
(Edinburgh,  Blackwood.  2  vols.),  is  a  novel  reprinted  from  a  maga- 
zine;  scampish,  melodramatic,  and  flashy,  some  people  might  even  say 
trashy;  but  withal  very  amusing. 

The  British  Museum,  historical  ajid  descriptive,  with  numerous  wood 
engravings  (Edinburgh,  Chambers).  Well  enough  to  give  country-folks 
an  idea  of  the  contents  of  our  national  museum,  but  as  a  handbook  de- 
cidedly out  of  date. 


FOREIGN  LITERATURE. 


La  Cosmogonie  de  la.  Bible  devnnt  Ics  Sciences  perfectionees  :  ou,  la 
Hevelation  jrrimitive  demontree  par  Vaccord  suivi  des  fails  ccsmogo- 
niques  avec  les  Principes  de  la  Science  generale,  par  M.  I'Abbe  A.  So- 
rignet  (Paris,  Gaume,  freres),  is  a  book  open  to  the  same  kind  of  ob- 
jections as  those  which  we  brought  against  the  volume  of  C.  B.  on  the 
same  subject,  reviewed  in  a  late  number  of  our  last  series. 

Philosophic.  De  la  Connaisance  de  Dicu,  par  A.  Gratry,  Pretre  de 
rOratoirede  Tlmmaculee Conception,  2tom.  (Paris,  DounioletLecofi're). 
This  is  the  first  instalment  of  a  series  of  treatises  on  philosophy  ;  it  is  to 
be  followed  by  works  on  psychology,  logic,  and  ethics.  The  author 
begins  with  the  science  of  God  (including  the  science  of  the  soul  ele- 
vating itself  to  God),  because  this  is  the  beginning  as  well  as  end  of  all 
philosophy ;  in  it  are  involved  the  method,  the  logic,  the  ethics,  the 
metaphysics  and  ideology,  and  the  psychology  of  the  system.  "  In 
this  sense  the  science  of  God  is  the  whole  of  philosophy."  He  under- 
takes to  prove  that  the  inductive  process,  or  logic  of  invention,  is  as 
rigorously  scientific  as  the  deductive  ;  it  consists  in  setting  out  from  any 
finite  being  or  rpiality,  and  after  suppressing  ail  limits,  in  affirming  the 
Infinite  Being,  or  iutinite  peifections  corresponding  to  the  finite  quality 
under  our  noiice.  Every  use  of  this  process  of  the  reason  is  in  its  very 
nature  a  proof  of  the  being  and  attributes  of  God.  It  is  always  true  ;  it 
is  as  valid  in  geometry  (in  the  infinitesimal  calculus)  as  in  ontology. 
But  in  its  metaphysical  use,  it  requires  the  co-operation  of  the  intellect 
and  will. 

Such  is  the  thesis  of  the  book,  and  it  appears  to  be  treated  with  dis- 
tinguished ability.    Though  we  have  not  had  time  to  make  more  than  a 


Short  Motices.  395 

cursory  examination  of  it,  we  have  seen  quite  enough  to  be  able  to  re- 
commend it  as  a  thoughtful  Catholic  work,  and  well  deserving  the  at- 
tention of  the  student  of  philosophy. 

Le  Pape  en  tons  les  temps,  et  specialment  au  XIX^  siecle,  par  Dr.  Don 
Juan  Gonzalez,  traduitde  I'Kspagnol  par  leCompteCh.  de Reynold Chau- 
vancy  (Paris,  Vaton,  1854),  is  a  cursory  view  of  the  influence  of  the  Papacy 
on  the  religious,  political,  social,  and  intellectual  movements  of  Europe 
from  the  earliest  times.  We  are  afraid  tliat  its  numerous  allusions  will 
])revent  its  being  understood  by  the  less  learned,  while  better-read  per- 
sons will  find  that  it  contains  nothing  which  they  did  not  know  before. 
The  argument  is,  that  the  influence  of  the  Pope  has  always  been  for  the 
best ;  that  this  influence  is  impossible  without  independence  ;  and  that 
independence  implies  a  temporal  sovereignty  ;  and  that  this  is  to  be 
preserved  to  the  Pope  at  all  risks.  The  author  is,  perhaps,  rather  too 
one-sided  in  his  views:  he  owns  that  wherever  he  looks  he  can  see  no- 
thing but  Rome.  "Partout  oii  Rome  jette  sa  parole  de  (3ondamnation, 
tout  devient  sterile  ;  partout  ou  Rome  jette  sa  parole  de  sal ut,  tout  se 
vivifie.  Oil  est  aujourd'hui  cette  grande  Eglise  d'Orient,  &c.  ?  .  .  .  . 
Luther  avec  son  genie  et  ses  oeuvres,  Napoleon  avec  ses  armees  et  ses 
victoires,  ou  sont  ils  ?  Je  cherche  a  les  voir  encore  ;  mais  ils  ont  dis- 
paru."  On  the  contrary,  all  these  things  exist  in  vital  energy.  The 
Greek  Church  is  the  soul  of  the  Russian  war.  Luther  has  set  in  mo- 
tion the  whole  infidel  and  sensual  philosophy  of  Europe.  Napoleon, 
perhaps,  has  founded  a  dynasty  which  may  work  good  or  evil  to  the 
Church  to  an  incalculable  amount.  If  all  that  is  not  the  Church,  always, 
as  a  matter  of  course,  came  to  nothing,  what  would  she  have  to  oppose? 
where  our  need  of  the  author's  argument  ? 

Esprit  des  Saints  illustres,  autcurs  ascetiques  et  moralistes,  non  com- 
pris  au  nombre  des  Peres  et  Docteurs  de  L'Egdse,  par  M.  I'Abbe  L. 
Grimes  (6  vols.  8vo,  Paris,  Sagnier  et  Bray),  is  made  up  of  extracts 
from  the  writings  of  saints,  preceded  by  a  notice  of  their  life  and  literary 
productions.  A  book  of  the  highest  class  for  spiritual  reading,  although 
from  its  very  nature  somewhat  deficient  in  unity  or  continuity  of  sub- 
ject. 

Harmonie  du  CatJiolicisme  avec  la  Nature  Humainc,  par  Mde.  L. 
de  Challie  (Paris,  Gaume).  Faith  is  the  motive  of  the  most  splendid 
of  human  actions  ;  the  soul  ought  ahvays  to  mourn  its  doubts.  There- 
fore there  must  be  some  institution  like  the  Church,  which  gives  us 
faith,  and  answers  our  doubts;  therefore  the  Church  is  true.  Madame 
de  Challie  has  treated  her  subject  cleverly  and  learnedly  ;  but  yve  need 
hardly  tell  her  that  her  proof  is  not  demonstrative. 

Histoire  de  V Eglise  de  France  pendant  la  Revolution,  par  M.  I'Abbe 
Jager(3  torn.  Bruxelles,  Goemaere).  The  learned  abbe  traces  the  prin- 
ciples of  the  Revolution  to  Voltaire  and  Rousseau,  and  attributes  its 
outbreak  to  financial  difficulties  ;  he  traces  the  decline  of  the  popularity 
of  the  clergy,  coinciding  with  the  spread  of  anarchy,  and  gives  a  strong 
picture  of  the  atrocities  endured  with  such  Christian  fortitude  by  the 
martyred  yjriests  of  the  Revolution.  We  highly  recommend  these  vo- 
lumes ;  though  we  think  that  the  principles  oftlie  Revolution  maybe 
traced  rather  further  back  than  to  Voltaire.  The  Brahmin  teaches  "that 
the  world  rests  on  the  back  of  a  tortoise.  But  what  does  the  tortoise 
stand  on  ?  asks  an  over-curious  disciple. 


396 

CHURCH  CHOIRS  AND  CHORAL  SCHOOLS. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Rambler, 

Dear  Sir, — A  regular  and  well-organised  system  for  the  training  of 
choristers  is,  as  a  contributor  to  your  February  Number  observes,  one 
of  the  desiderata  o'i  o\iT  t\me.  And  perhaps  you  will  not  consider  it  a 
Avaste  of  your  space  to  admit  a  few  observations  on  the  whole  subject  of 
Church  choirs,  from  a  priest  in  charge  of  an  important  London  mission, 
Avho  has  long  felt  experimentally  the  anomalies  and  difficulties  to  which 
your  Reviewer  alludes,  and  done  his  best,  whether  with  greater  or  less 
success,  to  remedy  them. 

The  plan  of  a  school,  whether  central  or  local,  of  which  education  in 
music  and  ecclesiastical  proprieties  shall  form  the  characteristic  feature, 
seems  to  me  open  to  some  objections.  I  cannot  help  thinking,  that  the 
object  which  should  give  its  character  and  tone  to  every  Catholic  school, 
is  religious  and  moral  training;  into  which  I  fully  admit  that  the  pro- 
posed instruction  should  (in  all  cases  where  it  is  applicable)  enter,  but 
of  which  it  should  form  but  part;  important,  indeed,  butstrictlj'-  subordi- 
nate. A  boy  who  has  a  voice,  and  a  "  soul  for  music,"  has  not  the  les3 
a  soul  to  be  saved;  and  I  seem  to  fancy  that,  if  musical  capacity  were 
to  be  made  the  principle  of  selection,  and  its  cultivation  the  main  object 
of  care,  there  would  be  very  great  danger  of  the  arrangements  of  the 
'school  being  made  to  bear  disproportionately  upon  this  one  point.  I 
say  this,  not  in  the  spirit  of  cavil  or  opposition,  far  from  it,  but  simply 
as  feeling  how  necessary  it  is  that  plans  of  this  kind  should  be  duly 
"ventilated"  before  they  are  carried  out ;  one  great  evil  of  the  present 
day  being,  as  I  think,  a  tendency  to  hasty  legislation.  Let  us  try  and 
imagine  some  of  the  practical  difficulties  of  such  an  undertaking.  Are 
the  musical  and  ceremonial,  or  ecclesiastical  department,  on  the  one 
hand,  and  the  moral  and  general,  on  the  other,  to  be  conducted  by  dif- 
ferent masters,  or  by  the  same?  If  the  former,  I  think  it  would  be 
far  better  to  graft  the  musical  education  (much  more  efficient  and  satis- 
factory, however,  than  any  thing  we  have  at  present)  upon  jjoor  and 
middle  schools,  than  to  draw  off  the  musical  boys  of  either  class  to  a 
sejiarate  place  of  instruction,  designed  especially  for  them.  If,  however, 
the  two  branches  are  to  be  united  in  one  and  the  same  master,  where,  I 
ask,  are  we  to  find  our  men?  Quis  instruet  iysus  instritctores?  We 
want  the  school  to  educate  the  masters,  before  we  have  got  the  masters 
to  educate  the  school.  Where  are  we  to  find  the  man,  at  least  among 
such  as  are  not  occupied  in  other  duties,  who  is  at  once  theologian,  dis- 
ciplinarian, and  scientific  musician,  to  say  nothing  of  the  various  other 
qualifications  necessarj'  for  such  a  schoolmaster?  I  fear  that  one  or 
the  other  of  two  naturally  unconnected  qualities,  namely,  religious 
knowledge  and  musical  skill,  would  have  in  the  long-run  to  be  sacri- 
ficed ;  and  thus,  that  our  school  would  end  in  producing  either  indif- 
ferent musicians,  or,  what  would  be  infinitely  worse,  mere  musicians. 
I  shall  come  presently  to  the  other  alternative,  that  of  a  separate  in- 
struction in  the  two  departments,  which  apjjcars  far  more  feasible. 

But  there  is  a  further  question  to  be  considered.  What  are  we  to 
do  in  the  mean  time?  We  want  for  our  choirs,  and  want  at  once,  boys 
and  men  ;  trebles,  and  altos,  and  tenors,  and  basses.     However  efficient, 


Correspondence.  397 

then,  our  projected  music-scliool,  we  should  have  to  wait  years  before 
it  would  furnish  an  adequate  supply  of  voices.  It  takes  a  long  time,  as 
every  one  knows,  for  a  good  boy's  voice  to  mature  into  a  good  man's 
voice  ;  and  often,  I  believe,  it  happens  that  the  voice,  once  lost,  never 
comes  back.  Observe,  too,  when  our  school  has  trained  its  lad,  it  sends 
liim  out,  for  better  for  worse,  into  a  church  choir;  from  which,  when  no 
longer  of  use,  he  passes,  not  back  to  the  school,  but  forward  into  the 
world  ;  where,  ten  to  one,  he  loses  his  ecclesiastical  spirit  along  with  his 
voice  ;  and  when  his  voice  returns,  and  he  enters  a  choir  again,  he  has 
forgotten  all  about  Antiphons  and  Alleluias. 

It  is  a  very  practical  question.  How  are  we  to  stock  our  choirs  at 
the  present  time  ;  drawn  asunder,  as  we  are,  by  the  most  opposite  prin- 
ciples, and  hedged  in  between  the  most  awkward  prohibitions  ?  I  am 
almost  reminded  of  the  Prince  Regent's  lament : 

**  A  strait  waistcoat  on  him,  and  restrictions  on  me, 
A  more  *  limited  monarchy'  scarcely  could  be." 

The  Synod  of  Oscott  warns  us  against  '^  fcemincB,  prcesertim  con- 
(luctcB.'^  On  the  other  hand,  many  persons  feel  that  Protestant  singers 
are  not  merely  undesirable  in  fact,  but  wrong  in  principle.  The  synod 
(remarkably  enough)  abstains  from  all  mention  of  Protestants,  though, 
of  course,  amply  cognisant  of  their  existence  in  a  large  majority  of  the 
choirs  in  England ;  and,  what  gives  effect  to  this  silence,  specifies  fe- 
males (especially  when  hired),  only  to  object  to  them.  Our  problem, 
then,  is,  "  How  to  make  a  good  choir  without  either  ladies  or  Protes- 
tants."* 

Now,  if  we  be  pressed  to  construct  sucb  a  choir  at  an  hour's  notice, 
I  must  say  that  I  believe  the  thing  to  be  simply  impossible  ;  and  that 
we  must  make  our  option  between  a  class  of  singers  against  which  we 
are  thus  warned  by  authority,  and  one  which,  however  we  may  dislike, 
has  received  no  similar  condemnation;  although,  of  course,  tolerated 
only,  not  liked.  And  this,  of  course,  if  it  be  a  strict  alternative,  leaves 
practically  no  choice  to  a  priest  who  is  actuated  by  the  spirit  of  obe- 
dience. If  a  choir  can  be  formed  of  male  Catholics  only,  sufficient  for 
the  purpose  of  such  music  as  our  congregations  expect,  and  as  the 
Church,  as  a  general  rule,  presupposes,  I  for  one  would  gladly  sacrifice 
excellence  of  performance  to  tbe  benefit  of  so  strictly  ecclesiastical  an 
arrangement.  But  I  can  only  say  that,  after  four  years'  experience, 
during  which  the  attempt  has  been  sincerely  and  anxiously  made,  I 
pronounce  it  simply  impracticable. 

On  the  other  hand,  I  am  prepared  to  show  that,  if  we  had  but  time 
allowed  us,  the  end  might  be  gained  ;  and  that  by  a  method  which  for 
several  reasons  appears  preferable  to  a  school  of  which  a  musical  educa- 
tion should  be  the  principal  feature.  I  think  that,  although  a  tho- 
roughly ecclesiastical  arrangement  of  choirs  cannot  possibly  (as,  indeed, 
all  admit)  be  reached  per  saltum,  yet  that  we  may  make  a  continual 
approximation  towards  it  in  easy  and  obvious  ways ;  by  availing  our- 
selves of  materials  ready  to  our  hand,  and  keeping  clear,  in  the  mean 
while,  of  any  collision  with  either  the  words  or  the  wishes  of  ecclesiastical 
authority. 

My  idea — fully  borne  out,  I  should  say,  by  the  opinion  of  my  col- 
league, who,  unlike  myself,  is  a  perfect  master  of  music — is,  that  we 
may  do  great  things  towards  creating  an  efficient  choir  of  Catholics  ; 

*  In  London,  I  think  I  am  correct  in  saying  that  there  are  no  choirs  from 
which  Protestants,  and  but  two  from  which  females,  are  excluded. 


398  '  Correspondence. 

first,  by  introducing  a  superior  niui^ical  education  into  our  actual  T)Oor 
and  middle  schools;  secondly,  by  bringing  into  play  the  musical  c*a])a- 
city  which  is  distributed  throughout  the  male  portion  of  our  congrega- 
tions. The  advantages  of  this  plan  (if  feasible,  which  is  a  point  I  am 
coming  to)  are  manifold.  1.  It  requires  no  new  machinery.  2.  It 
goes  to  form  a  tie,  of  the  very  best  kind,  between  our  own  people  and 
the  Church.  3.  It  gives  us  a  hold  upon  boys  after  they  leave  school. 
4.  It  cuts  up  the  professional  spirit  in  our  choirs.  5.  It  is  very  econo- 
mical. 6.  It  tends  to  make  the  choir  (what  it  ought  to  be)  apart  of  the 
Church  establishment.  7.  It  secures  uniformity  in  the  style  of  music, 
and  consequent  unity  of  spirit  in  the  choir.  8.  It  enables  you  to  have  a 
choir  far  more  at  your  command  than  is  possible  when  you  depend  on 
strangers.  It  has  all  these  advantages  in  comparison  with  a  merely 
professional  choir  ;  it  has  some  of  them  in  comparison  with  the  plan 
which  your  Reviewer  temperately  advocates. 

To  show  you  that  here  I  am  not  setting  up  a  chimera,  I  will  tell 
you  what  has  been  done,  under  my  own  eye,  in  this  church,  and  yet 
but  as  a  mere  essay  towards  the  plan  I  have  just  sketched  out.  First, 
as  to  the  school.  For  the  last  three  years  and  a  half  we  have  paid  an 
experienced  musical  teacher  (of  course,  a  mere  musician,  for  no  more  is 
here  necessarj')  twelve  or  fifteen  pounds  a-year,  to  give  superior  nmsical 
instruction  twice  a-week  to  such  boys  in  the  poor-school,  among  others, 
as  exhibited  any  fitness  for  it ;  all  the  boys  in  that  school  he\x\g  regularly 
instructed  in  the  rudiments  of  music  as  part  of  the  school  work.  The 
results  have  been — 1.  that  our  own  school-boys  can  now  sing  a  little 
easy  mass  on  all  days  of  devotion;  2.  that,  even  in  our  Sunday  choir, 
we  have  at  present  no  trebles  hut  our  own  boys.  Secondly,  as  to  the 
class  of  adults.  Every  Thursday  evening,  all  the  young  men  of  the  con- 
gregation who  have  ears  and  voices  assemble  in  our  house,  and  practise 
for  two  hours,  under  the  direction  of  my  colleague.  The  effect  of  this 
arrangement  has  been,  that  we  have  a  native  choir,  independent  altoge- 
ther of  Protestants,  ladies,  and  externs,  who  are  always  ready  for  ves- 
pers or  feasts  of  devotion,  and  sing  them  (as  our  kind  friend,  Dr. 
Maguire,  our  vicar- general,  who  always  when  he  can  attends  them, 
can  attest)  with  great  spirit  and  precision.  It  is,  of  course,  unnecessary 
to  add,  that  in  this  church  all  the  parts  of  the  mass  and  vespers  are  sung 
with  every  practicable  attention  to  rubrical  accuracy.  The  same  home- 
choir  assist,  as  far  as  possible,  at  solemn  mass  on  days  of  devotion,  and 
at  the  offices  of  Holy  Week.  It  consists  not  merely  of  Catholics  onlyy 
but  of  Gatholics  regular  at  their  religious  duties.  In  addition  to  this 
provision  for  the  more  proficient,  the  young  men  of  our  congregation 
have  lately,  of  their  own  accord  and  at  their  own  cost,  formed  a  class 
oi  beginners ;  so  that  we  have  now  two  sets  of  boys  and  two  sets  of 
adults,  receiving  constant  instruction  according  to  their  several  degrees 
of  advancement. 

How  much  of  any  success  which  has  attended  this  experiment  may 
be  owing  to  the  fact  of  my  having  a  colleague  who  is  a  perfect  proficient 
in  music,  and  who  devotes  himself  with  the  greatest  assiduity  to  super- 
intending the  choral  arrangements,  is  more  than  1  can  say.  But  this 
advantage  might,  to  a  certain  extent,  be  compensated  (where  there  is 
no  priest  similarly  qualified),  by  the  direction  ota  lavman  ot  competent 
musical  attainments  and  thoroughly  ecclesiastical  spirit. 

Still,  however,  we  cannot  manage  to  construct  a  Sunday  choir,  sung 
as  the  people  expect,  without  a  sprinkling  of  Protestants.  It  is  true 
that  we  have  fewer  of  them  than  most  churches  in  London  ;  that  is  to 
say,  we  have  three  out  of  twenty  -,  and  among  these  three,  two  are  Ca- 


Correspondence.  399 

*holics  at  heart,     livii  \i  ^  principle  he  at  stake,  it  is  violated  by  three 

much  as  by  thirty. 

Pending,  however,  an  authoritative  decision  against  admitting  them, 

1  with  an  intimation  in  the  Oscott  decrees  against  female  singers, 
uich  (like  the  parallel  declaration  in  favour  of  Roman  vestments  in 
tiis  same  decrees)  is,  though  not  conclusive  against  existing  arrange- 
Tiients,  yet  quite  decisive,  in  the  estimate  of  obedience,  against  making 
this  the  time  for  introducing  them,  I  cannot  see  my  way  towards  break- 
ina-  up  a  choir  on  account  of  two  or  three  Protestants,  reverent  in  beha- 
viour, and,  as  to  dis])osition,  (|uite  as  much  Catholics  as  they  are  any 
Tiling  else.  I  do  not  feel  with  your  Reviewer,  that  such  persons  are 
wholly  out  of  tlieir  right  place  in  enunciating  the  words  of  the  creed,  or 
in  following,  whenever  they  do  so,  an  "Image  of  the  Blessed  Virgin,'' 
with  the  chorus  of  supplicants;  though  not  obliged  to  join  it,  if  their 
conscience  forbide.  As  things  are,  1  incline  to  think  we  must  content 
ourselves  with  merely  external  criteria  of  propriety  ;  judged  by  which, 
I  am  sorry  to  say  that  Protestants  sometimes  appear  to  advantage  by 
the  side  of  nominal  Catholics.  Here,  indeed,  I  am  reminded  of  another 
difficulty.  On  strict  ecclesiastical  principles,  to  admit  into  our  choirs 
an  unpractising  Catholic,  is  surely  but  one  degree,  if  at  all,  less  irregular 
than  to  admit  a  "  non-Catholic."  The  plan  I  have  just  proposed  tends 
to  a  thoroughly  ecclesiastical  arrangement  ;  ibr  it  would  be  a  priest's 
duty  to  require  the  observance  of  the  Paschal  precept  in  the  members  of 
his  choir,  as  in  those  who  assist  in  the  sanctuary.  But  the  test  of  a 
merely  nominal  faith  obviously  does  not  go  far  enough. 

I  must  add  a  few  words  on  the  advantage  of  open  and  visible  choirs. 
Whatever  irregularity  goes  on  in  them  can  be  instantly  put  down ;  and 
the  momentary  scandal  of  the  congregation,  produced  by  such  irregu- 
larity, is  an  infinitely  less  evil  than  the  habitual  irreverence  and  objec- 
tionable freedoms  of  which  concealed  choirs  (especially  where  both  sexes 
are  admitted)  are,  according  to  my  experience,  the  too  frequent  occa- 
sions. The  change  in  this  matter  which,  through  the  kind  aid  of  Mr. 
Burns,  I  was  enabled  to  carry  out  on  first  coming  to  the  mission  four 
years  ago,  has  obtained  me,  in  more  than  one  instance,  the  thanks  of 
those  very  ladies  whose  feelings  (even  had  it  been  eftected,  as  I  fear  it 
was  not,  with  all  that  scrupulous  care  to  avoid  offence,  which  your  Re- 
viewer describes  as  having  been  practised  in  some  similar  case  which 
has  fallen  under  his  experience)  it  had  so  obvious  a  tendency  to  hurt. 

I  am,  Sir, 

Your  faithful  servant, 

F.  Canon  Oakeley. 

St.  John's^  Islington, 

Feast  of  St.  Gregory  the  Great. 


TURKS  AND  CHRISTIANS. 

Note  to  the  second  article  in  our  last  Number. 

[The  kindness  of  a  correspondent  has  placed  at  our  disposal  the  fol- 
lowing extract  from  a  private  letter.  Its  appositeness,  as  an  illustration 
of  the  article  in  our  last  Number  on  the  relative  position  of  Turks  and 
Christians  under  Turkish  rule,  will  make  it  interesting  to  all  our 
readers.  At  the  same  time,  we  must  protest  against  being  supposed  to 
have  any  sympathy  with  the  Russians.  We  could  heartily  wish  that 
the  contending  parties  might  realise  the  fable  of  the  Kilkenny  cats.] 


400  Correspondence. 

Constantinople,  August  l^^-. — Will  you  like  a  sheet  of  news  from 
Istambol,  warranted  thoroughly  Turkish  ?  What  do  you  think  these 
wretched  infidels,  that  we  have  been  upholding  and  endeavouring  to 
reform  these  many  years  past,  have  done  as  a  recompense  for  our  un- 
reasonable liberality  ?  Since  I  have  been  here,  there  has  not  been  ;; 
single  public  execution;  which  in  an  Oriental  countrj-^,  where  one  ex- 
pects to  hear  of  heads  and  tails  as  plentiful  as  water-melons,  is  no  slight 
thing  to  be  said  in  favour  of  the  clemency  of  a  government;  and  since 
the  late  Sultan  Mahmoud  ascended  the  throne,  a  public  execution  for 
faith,  i.e.  a  martyrdom,  has  never  been  dreamt  of.  But  the  priests  or 
ulemas  of  the  present  day  having  regained  some  of  their  old  influence, 
a  barbarity  has  been  committed  which  equals  any  committed  in  the 
days  of  fanaticism. 

Last  year,  a  young  Armenian  was  taken  up  for  a  quarrel  with  some 
neighbours  in  the  streets,  and  was  ordered  the  bastinado.  Being  in 
liquor  at  the  time,  and  dreading  the  punishment,  he  said  he  would  turn 
Turk.  Whereupon  the  license  was  sent  for,  and  he  was  named  Maho- 
met ;  but  the  whole  process  was  not  gone  through  necessary  to  establish 
his  conversion.  W^hen  he  came  to  his  senses  he  resolved  not  to  be  a  Turk, 
and  bolted  to  Syra ;  whence  he  returned  a  few  months  since,  hoping  the 
affair  had  blown  over.  Going  one  night  to  his  sister's  house,  in  his  old 
quarter  (in  Frank  clothes,  for  disguise),  he  was  taken  up  for  having  no 
lantern  (it  being  the  rule  that  every  one  out  after  sunset  should  have  a 
lantern),  and  recognised  by  the  officer  of  the  guard,  and  thrown  into 
prison.  The  ulemas,  hearing  of  it,  insisted  upon  his  decapitation.  The 
poor  young  man's  mother  and  sister  and  aunt  came  to  us,  and  begged 
us  to  interest  ourselves,  and  do  our  best  to  save  him.  We  recom- 
mended them  to  go  to  the  embassy,  and  ask  help  there.  This  advice 
they  followed,  and  the  minister  exerted  himself  most  zealously,  and  ac- 
tually obtained  a  promise  from  the  Grand  Vizier  that  at  least  the  poor 
fellow  should  not  be  put  to  death,  in  these  strong  words,  *'If  a  drop  of 
his  blood  is  shed,  take  it  from  mine." 

Notwithstanding,  after  twenty  days  of  daily  torture  applied  to  make 
him  acknowledge  Islamism  ;  after  leading  him  out  as  if  to  execution, 
and  striking  him  with  the  back  of  the  sword;  after  every  species  of  in- 
timidation and  torture  had  failed,  he  was  finally  led  out  to  the  fish- 
market,  and  his  head  was  hacked  off  his  shoulders  in  the  rudest  and  most 
disgusting  manner.  The  body  was  exposed  three  days,  and  subjected 
to  every  insult  by  the  fanatical  Turks  ;  after  which,  a  petition  having 
been  presented  for  it  by  the  Armenian  patriarch,  and  torn  up,  it  was 
thrown  into  the  Bosphorus.  When  the  poor  mother  heard  of  his  execu- 
tion, she  flew  about  the  streets,  tearing  her  hair,  and  quite  out  of  her 
senses  ;  and  finally,  went  and  threw  herself  upon  the  corpse,  and  was 
only  taken  away  by  force. 

Is  it  not  a  shocking  tale?  And  what  do  you  think  of  the  politics  of 
your  country,  in  upholding  such  wretches  in  Europe  ;  when  the  single 
word  "  Go,"  pronounced  unanimously  by  the  Christian  nations,  would 
suffice  to  turn  them  out  ?     However,  the  day  cannot  be  far  off. 


Levey,  Robton,  and  Franklyn,  Great  New  Street  and  Fetter  Lane. 


^ijt  EamiUn 


Part  Y. 


CONTENTS. 


Nuns,  Monks,  and  Jesuits        ......     401 

On   the   Persecution    of   Nuns    and   Religious   Women 

DURING  THE  FrENCH  REVOLUTION   ....   410 

Reviews. — The  Life  of  a  Conspirator. — Lorenzo  Benoni ; 

or.  Passages  in  the  Life  of  an  Italian           .         •         .     428 
The    Hebraisms    and    Catholicisms    of    Disraeli's 
Novels. — The    Young    Duke  ;    Coningsby  ;    Sibyl ; 
Tancred,  &c.  &c 439 

Recent  Protestant  Tourists  in  Italy. — Six  Months 
in  Italy;  by  G.  S.  Hillard.— The  Land  of  the  Forum 
and  the  Vatican  ;  by  Newman  Hall,  B.A.  .         .     453 

Illustrated  Books    .......     462 

Christian  and  Pagan  Rome. — The  Pilgrim;  or,  Truth 
and  Beauty  in  Catholic  Lands. — The  Turkish  Flag ; 

by  Brinsley  Norton 472 

Short  Notices: 

Theology,  Philosophy,  &c.    .....     486 

Miscellaneous  Literature    .         ....     487 

Foreign  Literature 492 

Correspondence. — A   Protestant  Judge   and  a  Protestant 

Bishop  on  Equivocation    ,         .         •         •         .         .493 


VOL.   I. — NEW  SERIES,  F  F 


To  Correspondents. 

M.  R.  Declined  with  thanks. 

Correspondents  who  require  answers  in  private  are  requested  to  send 
their  complete  address,  a  precaution  not  always  observed. 

We  cannot  undertake  to  return  rejected  communications. 

All  communications  must  he  postpaid.  Communications  respecting 
Advertisements  must  be  addressed  to  the  publishers,  Messrs.  Burns  and 
Lambert  ;  but  communications  intended  for  the  Editor  himself  should  be 
addressed  to  the  care  of  Mr.  Maker,  101  New  Street,  Birmingham. 


THE    RAMBLER. 
Jt  (UtttMltr  Jaurnal  anl*  leateto. 

\oh.l.  New  Senes.  MAY  1854.  Part  V. 

NUNS,  MONKS,  AND  JESUITS. 

A  Nun  !  a  Monk !  a  Jesuit !  What  suggestive  words !  How 
can  we  furnish  to  the  simple  mind  an  idea  of  the  thoughts 
these  dark  syllables  convey  ?  Language  alone  cannot  do  it. 
We  can  think  of  but  one  process  by  which  the  uninitiated 
may  realise  the  feelings  experienced  by  thousands  at  the  re- 
petition of  these  mysterious  symbols  of  thought.  Let  a  man 
spend  his  afternoon  and  evening  in  rummaging  through  the 
theatrical  "properties"  provided  for  some  very  bloody  Adelphi 
melodrama ;  handling,  till  his  arms  ache,  black  masks,  san- 
guineous daggers,  clanking  swords,  cups  of  poison,  white  do- 
minos,  and  instruments  of  torture ;  when  he  is  dog-tired  and 
famished,  let  him  go  home,  and  sup  most  intemperately  on 
cold  pork ;  finally,  let  him  spend  half  an  hour  in  reading 
the  most  tremendous  scenes  in  some  awfully  horrible  novel, 
such  as  Whitefriars,  or  Lewises  Monk,  or  Bulwer's  Lucretia, 
and  then  go  to  bed.  Within  an  hour  or  two  he  will  be  in  per- 
fect condition  for  sympathising  with  the  fathers,  the  mothers, 
and  the  grandmothers  of  England,  on  the  subject  of  nuns, 
monks,  and  Jesuits.  Nothing  less  will  enable  him  to  appre- 
ciate the  appalling  horrors  of  that  threefold  nightmare  which 
sits  upon  the  soul  of  our  shuddering  country. 

O  England !  O  my  country  !  Thou  who  didst  win  Tra- 
falgar and  Waterloo,  and  art  about  to  crumple  up  the  Czar ; 
with  thy  bankers  in  London,  and  thy  merchants  in  Liverpool, 
and  thy  cotton-lords  at  Manchester,  and  thine  iron-lords  at 
Birmingham  ;  with  thy  police  in  every  village,  and  thy  fifteen 
thousand  established  clergy  (not  to  mention  Dissenting  min- 
isters) ;  with  thy  doctors  without  end,  and  thy  lawyers  innu- 
merable ;  with  thy  House  of  Lords  and  House  of  Commons, 
thy  Times  and  thy  Morning  Herald;  is  it  possible  that  thou 


402  Nuns,  Monhs,  and  Jesuits » 

art  at  thy  wit's  end  because  of  a  few  poor  women  shut  up  in 
convents,  and  a  dozen  or  two  houses  of  men  who  get  up  at 
three  o'clock  in  the  morning  and  go  to  bed  at  eight  ?  Cannot 
sensible  England,  and  canny  Scotland,  and  peppery  Wales, 
guard  themselves  from  the  rascalities  of  a  few  units  of  their 
population  by  the  ordinary  defences  of  society,  without  flying 
to  special  laws  to  worry  the  lives  out  of  their  dreaded  vic- 
tims ?  Is  the  lion  constrained  to  seek  an  Act  of  Parliament 
to  protect  himself  from  the  sheep  ?  Is  the  navy  of  England 
about  to  strike  its  flag  at  the  approach  of  half-a-dozen  cock- 
boats ?  f 

Shakspeare,  speaking  by  the  mouth  of  Hamlet,  exclaimaj 
*'  What  a  piece  of  work  is  man  !   how  noble  in  reason  !   how 
infinite  in  faculties  !  in  form  and  moving,  how  express  and 
admirable  !    in  action,  how  like  an  angel  I   in  apprehension, 
how  like  a  god  l"     We  are  of  opinion  that  the  heroic  Dane 
would  have  demurred  to  this  exalted  eulogy  on  humanity,  if 
he  had  been  acquainted  with  the  existence  of  a  class  of  men 
who  owned  Lord  Shaftesbury  for  their  sovereign  pontiflT,  tht 
Rev.  John  Gumming  for  their  doctor  in   theology,  and  Mr^ 
Montague  Chambers  for  their  inquisitor-general.      "In  apj 
prehension,  how  like  a  god  !'*     Spooner  and  Newdegate  to 
wit !     Can  bathos  be  carried  further  ? 

We  put  it,  then,  to  the  more  rational  of  our  fellow-coun- 
trymen, whether  it  is  right  that  they  should  suffer  themselves 
to  be  led  by  the  nose  by  such  a  set  as  this,  in  their  dealings 
with  about  a  quarter,  or  a  third,  of  the  inhabitants  of  the 
United  Kingdom.  In  the  name  of  common  sense  and  true 
patriotism,  is  it  not  time  to  settle  this  convent  question,  with- 
out reference  to  the  domestic  panics  of  Islington  and  Clapham? 
Surely  the  internal  peace  of  the  empire,  the  loyalty  of  one- 
third  of  the  British  army,  and  the  social  intercourse  of  all 
people  of  tolerable  composure,  is  not  to  be  perilled  at  the  dic- 
tates of  a  knot  of  ^*  pious"  admirals  and  captains,  in  deference 
to  the  hebdomadal  "  testimonies  against  the  Scarlet  Lady  of 
Babylon,"  with  which  a  certain  school  of  preachers  are  wont 
to  arouse  the  attention  of  their  drowsy  congregations.  Sir 
Frederick  Thesiger  and  Mr.  Walpole  are  lawyers ;  Lord  Pal- 
merston  is  a  man  of  the  world  ;  Sir  John  Pakington  and  Mr, 
Adderley  are  really  not  mere  country  justices  of  the  peace; 
we  put  it  to  such  men  as  these,  whether  the  laws  of  an  empire 
like  this,  comprising  a  population  divided  into  endless  sects, 
and  though  tranquil  now,  undermined  with  materials  for  tin 
most  frightful  explosions, — whether,  we  say,  the  laws  of  sucl 
an  empire  are  to  be  framed  in  accordance  with  actual  facts,  oi 
with  the  prophetic  reveries  of  a  sect,  which  would  balance  iti 


Nuns,  Monks,  and  Jesuits.  403 

utter  ignorance  of  things  as  they  are,  by  a  claim  to  an  insight 
into  things  as  they  are  about  to  be.  We  do  not  ask  the  House 
of  Commons  to  view  the  affairs  of  Catholics  from  a  Catholic 
point  of  view.  We  do  not  want  honourable  members  to  up- 
hold convents,  to  endow  convents,  or  to  protect  convents,  as 
such.  We  call  for  nothing  more  than  the  undisturbed  exer- 
cise of  those  rights  which  the  laws  of  the  land  guarantee  to 
every  British  subject,  until  it  is  proved  that  he  voluntarily  and 
grossly  abuses  them. 

Dismissing,  therefore,  all  interpretations  of  the  Apocalypse, 
and  the  rhapsodies  of  hirelings  who  get  their  bread  by  de- 
nunciations of  Popery,  let  us  look  the  facts  of  the  case  fairly 
in  the  face.  As  men  with  sound  heads,  clear  eyes,  calm  tem- 
pers, and  healthy  digestions,  let  us  quietly  see  how  matters 
stand  with  these  monks  and  nuns. 

f  Scattered  up  and  down  the  country  are  to  be  seen  a  few 
score  of  buildings,  most  of  them  in  appearance  private  houses 
(and  very  ugly  ones  too),  but  others  intensely  monastic  and 
Gothic  in  outward  seeming,  wherein  popular  report  and  the 
Catholic  directories  assert  that  there  are  congregated  small 
societies  of  men  or  women,  who  have  devoted  themselves  to  a 
mode  of  life  the  most  disagreeable  that  can  be  conceived  in  the 
ideas  of  members  of  parliament  and  noble  lords.  They  are 
all  unmarried,  they  eat  and  drink  by  rule,  they  give  up  their 
private  property  (when  they  are  lucky  enough  to  have  any  to 
give)  to  the  body  to  which  they  belong,  and  they  obey  the  com- 
mands of  certain  individuals  of  their  own  orders  with  willing 
(though  Mr.  Chambers  thinks  it  unwilling)  obedience.  Some 
of  these  communities, — i.e.  a  minority  of  them,  and  those  which 
are  making  the  slowest  progress, — spend  their  days  chiefly  in 
prayer.  But  the  greater  part  are,  if  they  are  men,  engaged 
in  some  measure  in  the  works  of  the  pastoral  office  ;  and  if 
they  are  women,  in  teaching  the  poor  and  visiting  the  sick 
and  miserable.  Besides  this,  all  the  women,  and  some  of  the 
men,  are  guilty  of  the  extreme  bad  taste  of  not  dressing  them- 
selves like  the  rest  of  the  world.  The  women  neither  curl 
their  hair  nor  wear  it  in  bands  or  plaits,  but  remorselessly 
cut  it  off.  Some  of  the  men  disfigure  themselves  (to  speak 
the  language  of  a  barber)  by  a  tonsorial  process  most  un- 
pleasant to  the  Protestant  eye.  Their  average  costume  is 
wholly  unparalleled  off  the  stage,  and  fascinates  the  gaze  of 
those  who  behold  it  for  the  first  time  in  an  actual  room,  and 
neither  in  a  tragedy,  a  comedy,  or  an  opera,  with  a  power 
unprecedented  in  the  annals  of  dress.  On  the  whole,  these 
friars  and  these  nuns  are  a  most  strange,  incomprehensible, 
im  paralleled,  and  consequently  a  most  disagreeable  and  dan- 


404  Nuns,  Monks,  and  Jesuits. 

gerous  class  of  individuals,  whose  proceedings  must  be  stopped 
by  the  arm  of  the  law,  at  any  cost  of  wrong  to  themselves. 

Now,  we  ask,  is  all  this  a  foundation  for  instituting  a  tor- 
menting inquiry  into  the  private  lives,  past  history,  and  pecu- 
niary regulations  of  these  most  un-Protestant-looking  persons? 
What  have  they  done,  which  every  Englishman  and  every 
Englishwoman  (so  far  as  her  husband  or  father  will  permit)  is 
not  doing  every  day  of  his  or  her  life  ?  These  ladies,  instead 
of  choosing  husbands  to  rule  them  at  their  own  will,  choose  a 
community,  in  which  they  will  be  governed  by  an  individual 
superioress,  it  is  true, — but  not  according  to  her  j^ersonal  ca- 
prices;  for  she  is  bound  by  rules  from  which  all  husbands  are 
free.  Have  they  not  as  good  a  right  to  do  this,  if  they  like 
it,  as  other  girls  and  women  have  to  refuse  or  accept  an  oifer 
of  marriage  ?  Is  the  House  of  Commons  prepared  to  adopt  the 
practice  of  the  Moravian  sect,  and  to  take  into  its  own  hands 
the  providing  of  husbands  for  all  the  marriageable  young  dam- 
sels of  the  United  Kingdom  ?  It  is  asserted  that  sometimes 
these  silly  women  bind  themselves  rashly  to  a  monastic  com- 
munity, and  rue  the  vow  they  have  made  through  a  long  life 
of  unknown  suffering.  That  such  things  may  occur,  we  admit; 
but  they  are  rare  in  the  extreme,  whatever  the  Protestant  In- 
quisition may  think.  And  is  there  no  such  a  thing  in  the 
world  as  "  marrying  in  haste  and  repenting  at  leisure  ?"  How 
many  marriages,  we  should  like  to  know,  are  productive  of 
the  enjoyment  which  the  *'  happy  pair"  anticipated,  when  they 
bound  themselves  by  7nore  stringent  vows  than  those  wliich 
fetter  a  Catholic  monk  or  nun  ?  In  how  many  cases  does  not 
a  certain  incompatibility  of  character  display  itself  before  one 
year  is  passed  away  ?  How  often  does  not  the  nuptial  tie 
prove  an  iron  chain,  to  gall,  to  wound,  and  torture  the  un- 
happy couple  whom  it  binds  together,  till  death  dissolve.- 
their  bonds  ?  We  have  no  hesitation  in  saying — and  there  is 
not  a  Catholic  who  has  friends  or  kindred  in  convents  or 
monasteries  who  will  not  confirm  what  we  say — that  the  pro- 
portion of  unhappy  *'  religious  professions"  to  happy  ones  is 
immeasurably  smaller  than  the  proportion  of  unhappy  to  happy 
marriages. 

Is  it  not  monstrous,  then,  to  put  forward  the  sacred  name 
of  justice  as  a  sanction  for  these  tyrannical  interferences  in  our 
religious  houses?  What  wretched  cant  to  talk  of  the  rights  of 
Englishmen  and  Englisluvomen,  when  a  poor  nun  or  friar  i- 
to  be  bullied,  while  the  miseries  of  domestic  life  are  left  unr< 
dressed!  If  you  want  to  bully  us,  and  our  monks  and  nunj 
say  so  like  men;  persecute  us,  if  you  dare;  and  crush  us, 
you   can.     But  put  aside  your  transparent  hypocrisy.     Si 


Nuns,  Monks,  and  Jesuits*  405 

nothing  of  your  pity  for  the  deceived  and  persecuted,  until 
you  have  made  it  penal  for  any  persons  to  marry  until  they 
have  had  a  year's  trial  of  their  future  partner's  temper  and 
principles,  when  tested  by  the  most  irritating  influences.  And 
v»hen  the  year's  trial  is  over,  do  for  '*  persons  about  to  marry" 
what  the  Catholic  Church  does  for  a  person  about  to  become 
a  nun,  shut  them  up  singly  with  some  sharp  individual,  who 
will  question  them  as  to  their  real  feelings  and  wishes^  and 
forbid  the  nuptials  if  he  can  detect  the  action  of  any  external 
pressure  upon  their  inclinations.  If  there  turns  out  to  be 
some  worldly-minded  mother,  who  wants  to  get  her  daughter 
of!  her  hands ;  or  some  hard-hearted  father,  who  cares  nothing 
for  true  love,  and  refuses  to  pay  his  son's  debts  unless  he  wall 
marry  the  heiress  who  is  willing  to  take  him ;  if  a  foolish  girl 
is  captivated  by  a  uniform,  or  a  pair  of  handsome  cheeks  and 
whiskers,  or  a  lover's  ball-room  flatteries;  if  there  is  a  fond 
.youth,  who  imagines  that  melting  eyes  are  all  that  is  neces- 
sary to  connubial  felicity,  or  that  a  sweet  voice  in  singing  can 
never  scold  in  unmusical  talking, — cut  short  the  hymeneal 
project  with  a  stern  decree,  and  bid  the  expectant  pair  go 
.^bout  their  business  and  learn  prudence  for  the  future. 

These  ugly  dresses,  too,  which  evidently  add  so  much  bit- 
terness to  the  anti-convent  wrath,  what  have  they  to  do  with 
the  matter  ?  The  affairs  of  human  life  are  not  to  be  settled 
by  the  principles  on  which  a  drama  is  brought  upon  the  stage. 
What  if  a  cold,  crawling,  uncomfortable  sensation  creeps  over 
the  limbs  of  some  amiable  matron,  or  some  managing  squire, 
at  the  sight  of  these  indescribable  costumes,  and  suggests  ideas 
of  mystery  unfelt  before?  Are  we  Catholics  on  this  account 
not  to  be  allowed  to  dress  as  we  like  ?  Or,  if  some  of  us  do 
choose  to  shave  the  crowns  of  our  heads,  or  to  put  on  veils,  and 
tie  up  our  faces  in  garments  which  would  make  a  fashionable 
tailor  or  modiste  stand  aghast,  is  that  a  reason  for  imputing 
to  us  a  violation  of  the  commonest  feelings  of  the  human 
breast?  Is  the  heart  of  a  nun  as  dead  to  all  natural  sweetness 
and  tenderness  and  justice,  as  her  habit  is  unlike  the  ball- 
dresses  of  Almack's,  and  the  court-dresses  of  St.  James's? 

Really,  if  people  are  to  be  bullied  by  Act  of  Parliament 
because  they  clothe  themselves  after  their  own  fashion,  the 
House  of  Commons  must  begin  at  home.  There  is  Mr.  Muntz 
with  his  beard,  Mr.  Bright  with  his  coat,  Mr.  Disraeli  with 
his  curls,  and  Colonel  Sibthorp  with  a  tout  ensemble  perfectly 
unique.  If  the  personal  appearance  of  these  gentlemen  hap- 
pens to  be  disagreeable  to  me,  am  I  therefore  justified  in  pe- 
titioning for  a  commission  to  inquire  whether  they  do  not  beat 
their  wives,  swindle  their  brothers  and  sisters,  and  keep  a  brace 


406  Nuns,  Monks,  and  Jesuits. 

or  so  of  daughters  stowed  away  in  their  wine-cellars  ?  If  these 
personages  are  to  please  themselves,  notwithstanding  my  dis- 
approbation, wh}^  may  not  the  inmates  of  our  convents  please 
themselves  also;  especially  as  they  happen  to  wear  costumes 
rendered  venerable  by  centuries  and  centuries  of  unbroken 
use,  and,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  appropriate  and  pleasing  in  our 
eyes? 

Moreover,  the  pretence  of  redressing  the  wrongs  of  en  thralled 
nuns  and  imprisoned  friars  is  rendered  doubly  absurd  by  the 
circumstances,  that  if  they  have  any  wrongs  to  redress,  there 
are  abundance  of  means  by  which  justice  can  be  done  them,  as 
affairs  now  stand.  Do  Protestants  really  imagine  that  when 
a  woman  becomes  a  nun,  her  friends  and  kindred  actually  lose 
sight  of  her  from  that  day  forth  for  ever  ?  Do  they  imagine 
that,  if  there  was  found  to  exist  the  smallest  difficulty  in  the 
way  of  their  seeing  and  conversing  with  her  whenever  they 
wished,  consistently  with  the  rules  of  the  conventual  life,  their 
suspicions  would  not  be  instantly  aroused  ;  or  that,  if  those 
suspicions  were  aroused,  they  would  not  be  acted  upon  with 
a  decision  which,  without  calling  in  the  aid  of  a  parliamentary 
commission,  would  settle  her  affairs  to  their  perfect  satisfac- 
tion ?  An  affectionate  father  and  mother  give  their  daughter 
in  marriage  to  an  apparently  deserving  husband.  After  a  time 
they  discover,  though  probably  not  from  her  complaints  (for 
tvives  suffer  in  willing  silence),  that  she  is  miserable,  and  that 
she  is  bound  for  life  to  a  heartless  persecutor  or  a  cold  despot. 
What  can  they  do  ?  Nothing.  Yet,  compared  to  a  wife,  a  nun 
is  free  as  air.  If  she  suffers  ill-usage,  her  friends  can  protect 
her.  She  is  not  hopelessly  given  over  to  the  caprices  of  a 
domestic  tyrant,  who  at  once  makes  and  administers  his  own 
laws,  and  inflicts  punishment  on  those  who  disobey  them. 
Religious  communities  are  governed  according  to  precise  rules, 
which  bind  the  governors  as  well  as  the  governed  ;  while  appeals 
against  their  infraction  can  at  all  times  be  made  to  those  ec- 
clesiastical authorities  who  have  no  interest  whatever  in  uphold- 
ing the  abuses  which  may  creep  into  such  establishments. 
We  repeat  it ;  the  friends  and  relations  of  nuns  are  perfectly 
competent  to  secure  them  a  complete  liberty  of  voluntary 
action.  The  vulgar  attacks  on  our  convents  refute  themselves. 
It  is  simply  incredible  that  the  aristocracy  and  gentry  of  this 
country  should  tolerate  one  twentieth  part  of  the  misdemean- 
ours popularly  attributed  to  the  communities  in  which  their 
daughters  and  sisters  are  living.  There  is  hardly  a  Catholi 
family  of  respectability  in  the  kingdom  which  has  not  a  relatioj 
or  a  friend  in  some  religious  establishment,  either  of  men 
women.     Will   any  person  of  common  sense,  then,  pretei 


Nunsj  Mojiks,  and  Jesuits,  407 

that,  having  the  access  we  have  to  them,  we  should  be  content 
to  permit  them  to  be  made  the  victims  of  dupHcity,  cruelty,  or 
of  other  crimes  too  abominable  for  description  ?  The  very 
notion  is  monstrous.  If  monks  and  Jesuits  are  such  scoundrels 
as  our  enemies  profess  to  think  them,  why  are  their  numbers 
perpetually  recruited  from  the  ranks  of  those  who,  having 
passed  their  boyhood  and  youth  in  these  supposed  dens  of 
infamy,  go  out  into  the  world,  try  tY5  fascinations,  and  then  volun- 
tarily return,  and  commit  themselves  for  life  with  eagerness  to 
the  society  of  their  ancient  deceivers?  Three  out  of  every  four 
of  our  daughters  are  educated  by  these  wicked  nuns.  What 
suicidal  madness,  then,  possesses  them,  that  they  must  needs 
be  so  delighted  to  keep  up  through  life  the  most  friendly  and 
affectionate  communications  with  their  former  mistresses,  to 
return  to  them  as  nuns  themselves,  and  to  send  their  own 
children  to  be  brought  up  in  these  hated  establishments  ?  Do 
Protestant  girls,  as  a  rule,  form  similar  attachments  to  theii' 
schoolmistresses  and  governesses  ?  Does  their  young  expe- 
rience tempt  them  to  desire  to  be  a  governess  or  to  keep  a 
school  ? 

Popular  opinion  looks  upon  nuns,  monks,  and  Jesuits,  as  so 
many  hard-hearted,  isolated  beings,  impervious  to  any  feeling 
but  those  of  abject  superstition,  crafty  duplicity,  or  luxurious 
self-indulgence ;  who  live  but  to  victimise  one  another  and 
their  fellow-creatures  in  general.  Now,  we  should  be  delighted 
to  place  the  religious  communities  of  this  country  in  7-eal  com- 
parison with  the  families  of  married  persons  in  the  English 
world  in  general.  Suppose  that  some  fifty  of  our  convents  and 
monasteries — beginning,  if  you  like,  with  those  double-dyed 
villains,  the  sons  of  Loyola,  were  placed  side  by  side  with  an 
equal  number  of  households,  chosen  at  random  from  May-fair, 
Belgravia,  or  Bloomsbury,  or  any  respectable  locality  in  the 
country  ;  we  have  not  the  shadow  of  a  doubt  that  the  Christian 
lata  of  love  would  be  found  to  be  practically  prevailing  in  the 
Catholic  communities  to  an  extent  with  which  the  average 
affectionateness  and  iViendship  of  the  Protestant  firesides  would 
not  bear  an  instant's  comparison.  We  do  not  say  that  any 
religious  house  is  absolutely  immaculate.  The  infirmities  of 
human  nature  are  eradicated  only  by  the  hand  of  death.  But 
we  do  say  that  it  would  be  most  monstrous  and  hypocritical 
tyranny  to  interfere  with  the  private  affairs  of  monks  and  nuns, 
on  the  pretence  that  they  deserved  a  rigour  of  supervision  un- 
called for  by  the  circumstances  of  the  married  life  of  ordinary 
families. 

All  we  ask  is  equality  with  our  fellow-countrymen.  A 
convent  is  a  private  house,  as  much  as  Windsor  Castle,  or 


408  Nuns,  Monks,  mid  Jesuits. 


f 


Chatsworth,  or  Blenheim.  You  might  as  reasonably  assert 
that  a  Brighton  or  Harrowgate  boarding-house  is  not  a  pri- 
vate establishment,  because  its  owner  has  many  lodgers,  as 
attack  a  convent  because  it  has  many  inmates  not  bound  toge- 
ther by  the  ties  of  blood.  If  these  persons  choose  to  live 
together,  and  follow  certain  regulations,  what  is  that  to  any 
one  else  ?  What  is  it  to  their  neighbours  if  they  like  to  weai 
black  gowns  and  veils,  or  to  get  up  at  three  o'clock  in  the 
morning  and  recite  long  Latin  prayers  ?  If  they  break  au) 
of  those  laws  of  the  land  which  bind  every  Englishman  an 
Englishwoman,  indict  them  for  the  offence  without  scrupu 
We  want  no  special  immunities  for  them.  We  demand  onl} 
that  they  shall  be  allowed  the  liberty  which  every  one  elst 
possesses.  We  Catholics  are  loyal  and  obedient,  as  long  ai 
we  are  subjected  to  the  same  laws  as  the  rest  of  our  fellow- 
citizens.  It  is  our  duty  to  be  so ;  and  we  defy  the  malice  a 
our  tormentors  to  prove  that  w^e  are  otherwise.  What  folly 
what  madness,  therefore,  it  is  to  drive  us  to  disloyalty  anc 
hatred  to  the  British  constitution,  by  enacting  laws  a(/ains> 
us !  What  blindness,  to  force  us  against  our  wills  to  regrei 
that  we  are  Englishmen  ;  to  annoy  us  with  petty  persecutions 
and  make  us  feel  that  it  is  only  want  of  power  in  our  ene 
mies  which  saves  us  from  the  thumb-screw,  the  rack,  and  tlu 
gibbet! 

People  say  we  should  make  no  objection  to  any  inquisi 
torial  proceedings  against  our  convents.  *'  Why  don't  yoi 
throw  them  all  open  at  once,  and  silence  your  enemies  ?"  saj 
many  really  kind  and  well-meaning  persons.  Put  the  case  ai 
one  of  your  owui,  we  reply.  How  would  you  like  a  commis 
sion  to  be  appointed  to  inquire  into  your  affairs,  on  the  pre 
sumption  that  you  were  rogues,  swindlers,  despots,  and  wors< 
still  ?  No  man  likes  to  be  insulted ;  to  have  it  prcsumec 
that  he  is  a  scoundrel;  to  be  called  up  before  a  committer 
personally  hostile  to  himself,  in  order  that  he  may  lay  bart 
his  domestic  affairs,  and  convince  his  examiners  that  he  ha: 
not  been  guilty  of  all  sorts  of  abominable  crimes.  We  sa^ 
that  it  is  an  intolerable  insult  to  us,  and  a  most  wanton  out 
rage  against  our  religious  communities,  to  subject  them  V 
these  harsh  and  exceptional  proceedings.  Why  should  W( 
throv/  open  our  convent-doors  for  the  intrusion  of  every  im 
pertinent  and  coarse-minded  fool,  whose  only  desire  is  to  gra 
tify  his  curiosity  by  prying  into  the  affairs  of  nuns,  or  to  wreal 
his  sound  Protestant  vengeance  on  the  heads  of  a  few  defen( 
less  women  ?  Would  Lord  Shaftesbury,  and  Mr.  Add^ 
ley,  and  Sir  Frederick  Thesiger,  like  their  wives,  sistc 
and   daughters,  to  be  placed  under  an  ordeal  such  as  tl 


Nuns,  Monks,  and  Jesuits,  409 

The  very  thought  of  such  a  thing  would  be  unendurable  to 
them. 

Let  this,  further,  be  remembered,  that  when  once  the 
legislature  sets  about  interfering  with  convents,  the  investiga- 
tion infallibly  falls  into  the  hands  of  the  most  offensive  and 
odious  of  our  adversaries.  Gentlemen,  not  merely  by  posi- 
tion, but  by  personal  character,  shirk  such  ungentlemanly 
duties.  Men  of  sense,  with  kind  and  amiable  hearts,  how- 
ever stanch  their  Protestantism,  cannot  help  seeing  that,  to  a 
woman  whose  life  has  been  spent  in  the  retirement  of  a  con- 
ventual life,  and  in  that  absence  from  all  but  female  society 
which  belongs  even  to  the  most  active  of  the  unenclosed  orders, 
contact  with  a  parliamentary  inquisition  must  cause  an  amount 
of  suffering  which  every  gentleman  would  shrink  from  per- 
sonally inflicting.  They  would  feel  themselves  degraded  by 
'■  bullying  a  woman,  even  though  she  were  a  nun.  Can  you 
ask  us,  then,  to  like  these  things  ?  Can  you  suppose  that, 
however  conscious  we  are  of  deserving  no  such  treatment,  we 
f  should  feel  no  irritation  against  those  who  would  thus  degrade 
(  our  friends,  our  sisters,  our  daughters,  to  the  level  of  notorious 
)  criminals,  arraigned  by  universal  accusation,  and  condemned 
j  by  their  own  open  violations  of  the  laws  of  God  and  man? 
[  It  is  impossible.  We  have  a  sense  of  our  rights  as  English- 
men and  Irishmen  ;  we  have  hearts  of  flesh  and  blood,  and 
not  of  stone  ;  we  have  the  memory  of  three  centuries  of  in- 
tolerable wrongs  to  quicken  our  sensitiveness  to  any  renewal 
•  of  former  cruelties ;  we  love  the  nuns,  the  monks,  and  the 
Jesuits,  whom  our  enemies  hate.  Yet  the  world  is  astonished 
that  we  are  not  so  ready  to  turn  our  convents  inside  out  to 
the  prurient  gaze  of  a  Drummond  or  a  Chambers,  as  to  tell 
the  tax-gatherer  the  rent  of  our  house,  or  to  name  the  sums 
at  which  we  are  assessed  to  the  poor-rate.  We  wish  our  ene- 
mies no  worse  punishment  than  that  they  should  be  sub- 
jected to  the  same  inflictions  which  they  would  impose  on  us. 
Once  more,  then,  we  repeat,  that  we  claim  to  stand  on  the 
same  footing  as  the  rest  of  our  fellow-countrymen.  We  want 
no  mysteries,  no  secresies,  no  special  immunities.  We  have 
no  wish  to  convert  our  religious  establishments  into  so  many 
lodges  of  freemasons,  or  associations  of  carbonari,  whose  af- 
fairs must  not  see  the  light  of  day.  If  it  really  is  important 
for  the  English  people  to  be  better  acquainted  with  the  sys- 
tems and  practices  of  our  religious  orders,  we  are  ready  to 
furnish  them  with  the  amplest  information,  provided  they  will 
apply  as  friends  and  as  gentlemen,  and  in  the  proper  quarters. 
Convents  and  monasteries  have  no  title  to  any  secrets  except 
those   to  which  every  private   household  has  a  right.     The 


410     On  the  Persecution  of  Nuns  and  Religious  Women 

Bishops  of  the  Catholic  Church,  the  Provincial  Superiors  and 
the  Generals  of  the  various  orders,  and  his  Holiness  the  Pope 
himself,  are  perfectly  accessible  persons ;  and  neither  on  prin- 
ciple nor  through  inclination  would  they  throw  the  smallest 
obstacle  in  the  way  of  any  inquiry  which  one  man  has  a  right 
to  make  of  another.  Secret  societies  are  hateful  in  the  judg- 
ment of  the  Church,  and  are  rigorously  condemned  by  her 
laws.  The  laws  of  the  Church,  and  the  constitutions  of  the 
religious  orders,  are  much  more  easily  to  be  got  at  than  the 
laws  of  England.  If  the  English  Government  has  reason  to 
suppose  that  English  nuns,  monks,  and  Jesuits,  are  setting 
up  secret  rules  for  themselves,  unsanctioned  by  the  highest 
ecclesiastical  power,  we  can  assure  it  that  the  authorities  at 
Rome  will  be  most  thankful  for  any  information  it  can  afford 
on  the  subject.  But  while  our  convents  and  monasteries 
remain  exempt  from  any  such  charges,  and  while  they  pre- 
sent examples  of  obedience  to  the  laws,  and  of  internal  peace, 
which  the  families  of  Established  and  Dissenting  Protestants 
would  do  well  to  imitate,  we  protest  with  all  our  souls  against 
the  renewal  of  those  penal  enactments  with  which  we  are  now 
yearly  threatened,  and  which  our  enemies  declare  they  wiH 
never  cease  to  push  forward  until  they  have  their  victims 
once  more  within  their  grasp. 


ON  THE  PERSECUTION  OF  NUNS  AND  RELIGIOUS 
WOMEN  DURING  THE  FRENCH  REVOLUTION. 

Much  truth  is  embodied  in  the  well-known  line,  "  The  world 
knows  nothing  of  its  greatest  men ;"  and  those  who  have  been 
in  the  habit  of  reading  the  history  of  their  kind  only  in  the 
records  of  the  historian,  or  of  the  ordinary  biographer,  form 
but  a  ver}^  incomplete  and  one-sided  idea  of  human  nature. 
They  are  carried  away  with  the  triumphant  march  of  the  vic- 
torious general,  or  wrapt  up  in  the  tortuous  career  of  the  poli- 
tician, or  engrossed  in  the  speculations  of  the  transcendental 
philosopher,  or  have  all  their  sympathies  excited  by  the  strug- 
gles of  vniaided  genius,  and  fancy  that  they  are  engaged  in 
studying  the  history  of  mind  in  its  highest  and  noblest  aspect 
Little  do  the  ordinary  readers  of  history  know  the  loft 
qualities,  and  the  amount  of  heroism,  which,  whether  showj 
in  braving  the  actual  presence  of  approaching  death,  or  exhl 
bited  in  the  passive  endurance  of  protracted  suffering,  lies  hi 
beneath  the  surface  ;  and  still  less  are  they  aware  of  the  stran< 
and  unearthly  interest  which  is  imparted  by  the  presence 


during  the  French  Revolution,  4ll 

the  religious  element  in  the  mind  of  the  suiferer.  There  are, 
to  use  the  words  of  the  poet  already  quoted,*  "  many  thou- 
sands that  die  betimes,  whose  story  is  a  fragment  known  to 
few,"  whose  lives  would,  not  only  in  the  higher  view  of  edifi- 
cation, but  even  psychologically  considered  as  rare  specimens 
of  human  nature,  prove  of  the  deepest  interest.  This  may  be 
considered  as  a  self-evident  proposition,  and  one  which  is  hardly 
worth  insisting  upon ;  but  it  is  to  the  bearing  of  such  intimate 
and  accurate  details  of  the  lives  and  sufferings  of  individuals 
upon  history,  that  we  wish  to  call  the  attention  of  our  readers. 
In  proportion  as  any  given  period  of  history  is  marked  by 
those  startling  events  and  exciting  incidents  which  take  a  firm 
and  enduring  hold  upon  the  public  mind,  will  naturally  and 
almost  necessarily  be  the  amount  of  unknown  and  unappre- 
ciated virtue  that  is  evoked  ;  while,  from  the  engrossing  cha- 
racter of  the  events  by  which  it  is  surrounded  and  overlaid,  it 
'.  finds  more  difficulty  in  winning  its  way  to  the  ear,  and  arrest- 
,  ing  the  attention,  than  it  would  have  done  had  it  been  dis- 
]  played  in  less  troublous  times.  The  French  Revolution  is 
i  just  one  of  the  periods  to  which  we  refer.  The  world  has 
i  never  beheld  a  time  in  which  so  much  of  public  and  universal 
\  interest  was  crowded  into  a  few  short  years ;  and  the  variety 
of  the  events  which  encumber  the  pages  of  the  historian,  and 
of  the  persons  who  fill  his  canvas,  carry  the  mind  away  with 
an  all-absorbing  interest,  and  prevent  it  from  resting  on  the 
details  which  make  up  the  picture,  and  the  understanding  and 
appreciation  of  which  add  materially  to  its  truth  and  local 
[  colour.  The  fountains  of  the  great  deep  were  broken  up  ;  all 
existing  institutions,  religious,  political,  moral,  and  social,  were 
swept  away  by  the  devouring  flood,  or  whelmed  for  a  time 
beneath  its  waters ;  and  in  the  contemplation  of  a  catastrophe 
so  vast,  so  sudden,  and  so  tremendous,  it  is  difficult  to  spare 
time  or  attention  for  the  fate  of  individual  sufferers.  And  yet 
we  are  sure  that,  without  some  such  care,  it  is  impossible  fairly 
to  recognise  the  causes,  or  to  appreciate  the  results,  of  that 
awful  visitation.  Every  year  adds  to  the  difficulty  of  obtain- 
ing authentic  information  of  the  class  to  which  we  allude. 
The  world  sweeps  on ;  and  when  we  desire  to  chronicle  its  pro- 
gress, we  find  that  we  have  "lost  the  links  that  bound  its 
changes,"  and  are  fain  to  resort  to  hypothesis  or  to  fiction,  in 
order  to  account  for  that  which  would  explain  itself,  had  we 
but  the  daily  Hfe  and  death  of  those  who  have  lived  and  died 
unhonoured  and  unknown,  to  which  to  submit  our  theories, 
and  by  which  to  test  our  prepossessions. 

In  this  respect  the  Catholic  student  of  history  possesses  a 
»  H.Taylor. 


Af\2      On  the  Persecution  of  Nuns  and  Religious  Women 

great  advantage,  and  one  which  we  are  inclined  to  think  is  not 
always  sufficiently  appreciated.  He  has  always  the  inward 
life  of  the  Church,  as  detailed  in  the  lives  of  her  Saints  and 
Martyrs,  to  which  to  refer;  and  it  is  no  exaggeration  to  say, 
that  more  light  will  often  arise,  amidst  the  darkness  of  an  am- 
biguous period  of  history,  from  some  simple  fact  or  humble 
record  thus  unconsciously  preserved,  than  from  volumes  of 
learned  dissertation  or  fantastic  controversy.  Thus,  we  believe 
that  M.  Leon  Aubineau,  in  the  memoir  which  we  published 
some  time  since,*  not  only  furnished  a  very  interesting  por- 
trait of  a  remarkable  character,  but  made  a  valuable  contribu- 
tion to  the  history  of  the  awful  dispensation  which  drowned 
France  in  torrents  of  her  own  best  blood,  and  sent  eight  hun- 
dred of  her  most  faithful  ecclesiastics  to  perish  in  the  bagnes 
of  Rochefort.  But  it  was  not  reserved  to  the  stronger  sex 
alone  to  glorify  by  their  death  the  Redeemer  to  whom  their 
lives  had  been  devoted.  It  is  our  intention  to  give  a  pendant 
to  the  picture  which  M.  Aubineau  has  drawn,  and  to  place 
before  our  readers  a  few  authentic  relations,  illustrating  the 
condition  of  nuns  and  religious  women  during  the  same  dread 
period.  Materials  have  fortunately  been  preserved  for  an  essay 
of  this  description  in  the  work  entitled  Mtmoires  pour  servir 
a  VHisloire  de  la  Persecution  frangaise,  by  I'Abbe  d'Hesniivy 
d'Auribeau.  The  reverend  author  of  the  work  to  which  we 
are  indebted  was  archdeacon  and  vicar-general  of  the  diocese 
of  Digne.  The  documents  which  he  has  edited  were  col- 
lected by  order  of  Pope  Pius  VI.,  who  was  pleased  to  accept 
the  dedication  of  them.  They  form  a  mass  of  very  interesting 
matter,  collected  from  various  sources.  They  bear  internal 
evidence  of  accuracy  and  honesty  ;  and  the  author,  or  ratli«t 
editor,  was  evidently  a  devout  and  conscientious  man.  He 
however,  all  praise  of  the  work  must  end ;  it  is  bad  in  sty 
and  the  materials  which  go  to  its  composition  are  so  ill 
gested,  and  arranged  in  such  a  slovenly  fashion,  as  to  make  i 
difficult  task  to  wade  through  its  pages,  and  to  induce  a  fe 
ing  of  regret  and  disappointment,  that  a  commission  of  sue 
importance  should  not  have  been  intrusted  to  more  able  o 
more  experienced  hands. 

We  will  preface  these  narrations  by  a  brief  and  rapit 
sketch  of  the  progress  of  the  Revolution  in  so  far  as  it  affectec 
conventual  establishments. 

On  the  12th  of  February,  1790,  religious  vows  were  abo 
lished  in  France,  and  all  convents  and  monastic  orders  su 
pressed,  by  a  decree  of  the  Constituent  Assembly.     This 
one  of  the  first  blows  levelled  ngainst  religion,  and  almost 
*  See  the  Rambler  for  September  and  October  1853. 


during  the  French  Revolution »  41S 

first  step  openly  taken  upon  that  declivity  at  whose  foot  lay 
the  abyss  of  infidelity,  of  blasphemy,  and  of  sacrilege.  The 
originators  of  this  and  similar  propositions  do  not  seem  to  have 
been  aware  of  the  full  consequences  of  the  acts  which  they 
were  perpetrating;  and  some  of  them,  at  least,  would  have 
shrunk  back  with  horror,  could  they  have  foreseen  the  results 
of  the  policy  which  they  were  blindly  advocating.  They  be- 
lieved themselves  to  be  engaged  in  the  task  of  reforming  the 
Church  of  France;  and  their  efforts  were  directed  to  the  same 
objects  which  have  in  all  ages  excited  the  zeal  of  so-called 
religious  reformers.  After  having  introduced  a  principle  of 
uniformity  into  the  administration  of  justice  and  the  civil  con- 
stitution of  the  country,  they  thought  that  nothing  was  more 
natural  than  to  proceed  '*  to  regularise  religion,  and  to  con- 
stitute it  on  the  same  plan  with  the  other  branches  of  the 
public  service."*  These  alterations,  as  they  were  called, 
which  may  have  appeared  to  some  of  their  advocates  to  have 
\)een  of  a  merely  superficial  and  unimportant  character,  while 
n  reality  they  struck  at  the  very  root  of  all  religion,  were 
not  proposed  by  the  fiercest  and  most  forward  of  the  revolu- 
tionary party.  Camus  and  other  Jansenists,  who  are  num- 
'ed  by  M.  Thiers  amongst  the  most  pious  of  the  deputies, 

re  the  authors  of  what  was  called  the  civil  constitution  of 
the  clergy. 

It  was  Treilhard,  a  lawyer,  and  the  advocate  of  the  clergy, 
also  a  Jansenist,  who,  after  having,  on  the  17th  of  December 
in  the  former  year,  proposed  the  dissolution  of  religious  cor- 
porations, and  the  payment  of  their  members  by  a  state  salary, 
proposed  on  the  12th  of  February  the  decree  to  which  we 
have  called  the  attention  of  our  readers.  Finally,  it  was  on 
the  motion  of  Barnave,  a  Protestant,  that  on  the  next  day  but 
one  permission  was  given  to  all  the  religious  of  both  sexes  to 
leave  the  cloister,  and  to  secularise  themselves. 

It  is  a  curious  and  interesting  subject  of  speculation,  to 
trace  the  similarity  of  the  process  by  which  the  enemies  of  the 
Church  invariably  arrive  at  their  conclusions,  however  those 
conclusions  may  differ  among  themselves.  There  is  no  subject 
upon  which  Protestants  are  fonder  of  descanting  than  on  the 
French  Revolution ;  and  they  imagine  that  they  are  using  an 
unanswerable  argument  against  the  Catholic  religion,  when 
they  point  at  what  they  are  pleased  to  call  a  whole  nation  of 
Catholics  giving  themselves  up 'to  infidelity,  and  leaving  the 
worship  of  the  true  God  for  the  service  of  the  Goddess  of  Rea- 
son. They  would,  however,  be  surprised,  were  it  pointed  out 
:o  them,  as  it  easily  might  be,  that  the  origin  of  the  movement 
*  Thiers,  Hiatoire  de  la  Revolution,  vol.  i.  chap,  5. 


Ift 


414     On  the  Persecution  of  Ntins  and  Religious  Women 

was  precisely  the  same  as  that  which  they  regard  as  the  charter 
of  their  rehgious  liberties  ;   that  the  tendency   of  their  own 
principles  was  in   the  same  direction ;    and  that  it  is  to  be 
attributed  to  accidental  circumstances  of  time  and  place,  that 
the  Anglican  reformation  in  the  sixteenth  century  did  not  pro- 
duce the  same  results  as  the  French  reformation  of  1 790.     More 
than  this,  the  apparent  success  of  their  English  forerunners 
had,  we  doubt  not,  a  large   share  in  exciting  the  weak  and 
mischievous  charlatans,  who  commenced  the  attack  upon  the 
Church  in  France,  to  follow  their  example.     It  has  often  beer 
said  that "  Truth  is  one,  while  error  is  various ;"  and  it  is  per- 
fectly true,  so  far  as  their  manifestations  are  concerned.     Ii 
reasoning  upon   external    phenomena  the  axiom   is    a  most 
valuable  touchstone,  enabling  us  to  discriminate  with  unerring 
accuracy  upon  the  class  of  questions  to  which  it  applies.     Ii 
religious  matters,  however,  it  may  be  said  that  the   origin  o 
error  is  as  single  as  the  antagonistic  truth  which  it  controverts 
The  Church  is  always  before  mankind  in  its  unity  and  com 
pleteness ;  and  the  principle  which  opposes  it,  whether  dis 
tinctly  contradictory  of  it,  or  more  cautiously  contrary  to  it 
is  universally  the  same.     Error  may  and  does  become  multi 
form  in  its  development ;  but  in  its  origin  it  is  as  one  as  truth 
Those  who  will  pursue  with  this  idea  the  study  of  the  so-calle( 
philosophic   school  in  France  will  be  astonished  to  find  hov 
invariably  the  same  points  of  attack  are  selected  by  them  a 
those  which  we  are  accustomed  to  find  chosen  by  the  oppo 
nents   of  the  Church  in  England :    and  many  religious  an^ 
earnest-minded  Protestants  would  be  shocked  to  find  them 
selves  sailing  in  the  same  boat,  and  using  nearly  the  same  lar 
guage,  with  men  whose  opinions  they  believe  themselves  to  at 
hor,  and  in  whose  company  they  would  scarcely  like  to  nic 
through  Coventry.     We  may  briefly  instance,  in  illustratioi 
these  ideas,  the  peculiar  hostility  shown  by  the  partisans  of 
new  views  in  France  to  the  Blessed  Virgin,  whose  images 
the  corners  of  the  streets  were  proscribed  and  rigorously 
pressed.     We  will  also  just  allude  to  the  decree  which  pasJ 
the  Convention  at  the  recommendation  of  Chaumette,  by  whii 
the  sale  of  every  kind  of  trumpery  {toutes  especes  dejongleri^ 
was  forbidden  ;  and  Agnus-Deis,  Ecce-homos,  crosses,  imag 
of  the  Virgin,  handkerchiefs  of  St.  Veronica,  &c.  are  partici 
larly  mentioned  as  coming  under   this  denomination.     Tl 
parallel  between  the  conduct  of  the  revolutionary  party  i 
France  and  the  schismatical  Greek  Church  is  no  less  remarl 
able.     The  whole  question   of  the  intrusive  bishops  will  ' 
itself  suggest  many  points  of  comparison,  and  the  sufferil 
endured  by  the  religious  women  of  France  in  consequence 


11 

1 


during  the  French  Revolution,  415 

their  resistance  to  the  unwarrantable  assumption  of  authority 
by  the  apostates,  recal  with  painful  distinctness  the  tortures 
so  lately  borne  with  the  same  constancy  by  the  nuns  of  Minsk 
in  defence  of  the  same  principle. 

Although  the  fatal  decree,  which  was  only  the  prelude  to 
the  severer  trials  which  awaited  the  inmates  of  the  cloister,  had 
gone  forth,  yet  much  still  remained  to  be  done.     The  people 
of  France  were  not  so  wedded  to  the  cause  of  theological  pro- 
gress, or  so  convinced  of  the  necessity  for  a  reformation,  as 
their   representatives   and   rulers.     Already,  in    the  tumults 
which  had  preceded  this  period,  evidence  had  been  given  that 
the  populace,  although  prepared  to  go  all  lengths  in  the  way 
of  political  excitement,  was  not  yet  worked  up  to  the  neces- 
sary pitch  of  frenzy  to  rise  against  all  its  old  traditions  of 
religious  reverence.     On  the  14th  of  July  in  the  preceding 
year,  the  Convent  of  the  Visitation,  which  was  in  the  imme- 
diate neighbourhood  of  the  Bastille,  had  been  forced  by  the 
infuriated  mob  who  were  engaged  in  the  destruction  of  that 
fortress.     A  cannon-ball    entered  the  choir  when    the   com- 
munity were  assembled  at  vespers,  and  shattered  one  of  the 
pillars,  without  causing  any  interruption  in  the  office  ;  and 
the  bandits,  who  shortly  afterwards  entered  with  the  ferocity 
of  tigers,  retired  like  lambs,  remarking  to  one  another,  *'  Look 
at  these  poor  nuns  !  See  how  quiet  they  are,  in  the  midst  of 
all  this  uproar !"     Much  was  yet  to  be  done,  before  the  holy 
labours  of  the  Sisters  of  Charity  could  be  forgotten  by  those 
whom  they  had  nursed  and  tended ;  and  to  effect  this  was  now 
tlie  unceasing  endeavour  of  the  infamous  mencurs,  who  saw 
furthest  and  deepest  into  the  chaos  which  they  were  labouring 
to  reproduce.     The  public  mind  required  to  be  excited  by 
some  patent  and  flagrant  scandal,  which  should  induce  it  to 
believe,  on  the  one  hand,  that,  in  the  words  of  Garat,  the 
monastic  life  was  not  only  contrary  to  reason  and  to  policy, 
hut  to  religion ;  and,  on  the  other,  that  the  effect  of  opening  the 
doors  of  the  convents  would  be  either  to  deliver  from  them 
unwiUing  victims  pining  within  their  walls,  or  to  purge  them 
from  unworthy  inmates  who  dishonoured  them.     Accordingly, 
on  the  night  which  followed  tlie  proposition  of  Barnave,  the 
Palais  Royal  was  filled  with  women  the  most  abandoned  of 
their  kind,  disguised  in  the  habits  of  different  orders,  walking 
arm-in-arm  with  soldiers  of  the  National  Guard,  and  insulting 
public  decency  by  every  kind   of  ribaldry.     Some    of  these 
were  recognised  ;  and  on  being  questioned,  admitted  that,  in 
their  own  words,  *'  they  got  thirty  francs  and  the  dress  for  the 
night's  exhibition"  {four  jouer  cette  farce).     Even  this  was 
not  enough.     A  real  unmistakeable  nun  was  wanted  to  out- 

VOL.  I. — NEW  SERIES.  G  G 


416     071  the  Persecution  of  Nuns  and  Religious  Women 

rage  religion,  and  to  give  a  public  spectacle  of  impiety  to  the 
assembly  and  the  populace.  A  wretched  creature,  who  had 
long  before  broken  her  vows  and  eloped  from  her  convent  at 
St.  Maude,  was  procured  by  means  of  a  bribe  of  fifty  louis. 
She  was  duly  provided  with  a  discourse  filled  with  denuncia- 
tions of  the  monastic  life  in  general,  and  the  house  of  v/hich 
she  had  been  a  member  in  particular,  which  had  been  previ- 
ously read  and  approved  at  the  Jacobin  Club.  At  the  evening 
sitting  of  the  11th  of  March  the  miserable  wretch  appeared  at 
the  bar  of  the  Constituent  Assembly,  and  having  with  trem- 
bling lips  recited  this  infamous  production,  she  was  compli- 
mented by  the  president  on  the  patriotic  use  which  she  was 
making  of  her  newly-acquired  liberty.  These  were  not  the 
only  m.eans  adopted  for  influencing  and  giving  a  direction  to 
the  public  mind.  The  stage,  that  all-important  engine  with 
the  excitable  population  of  Paris,  was  pressed  into  the  ser- 
vice, and  sixty-four  consecutive  representations  were  given  of 
an  atrocious  piece  entitled  Les  Regrets  du  Cloitre,  in  which, 
as  well  as  in  other  plays  produced  about  the  same  time,  the 
religious  of  both  sexes  were  introduced  with  circumstances 
of  the  grossest  scandal. 

The  Assembly  was  not,  however,  long  left  in  doubt  as  to 
the  real  sentiments  of  the  religious  communities  with  regard 
to  the  freedom  offered  to  them  by  the  dispensation  from  their 
vows,  a  measure  which  they  foresaw  was  soon  to  become  com- 
pulsory, or  to  be  resisted  only  under  pain  of  the  most  appall- 
ing sacrifices.  Supplications  of  the  most  earnest  and  pressing 
kind  were  addressed  to  the  legislature  by  the  members  of 
many  houses,  and  we  intend  to  offer  to  our  readers  one  from 
the  order  of  Carmelites,  which  may  be  read  with  advantage 
in  the  present  day  by  some  of  those  gentlemen  who  are  so 
eager  to  intei'pose  on  behalf  of  those  whom  they  are  pleased 
to  call  the  "  victims  of  the  conventual  system." 


4 


"  The  Address  of  the  Carmelites  of  France  to  the  Natiom 
Assembly. 

*'  NossEiGNEURS, — We  were  engaged  in  imploring  God  for  the 
success  of  your  labours,  the  preservation  of  the  king,  and  the  pros- 
perity of  France,  when  we  received  notice  that  you  had  suspended 
the  pronunciation  of  vows  in  all  communities  of  both  sexes.  It  is 
not  for  us  to  judge  of  the  motives  which  have  induced  you  to  pro- 
nounce this  suspension :  the  terms  of  the  decree  lead  us  to  hope 
that  it  is  intended  to  be  only  of  a  temporary  character;  and,  until 
it  shall  please  your  wisdom  to  repeal  it,  our  duty  is  to  conform  to  'tk 
But  we  have  been  informed  that  it  is  the  intention  of  the  Nationf 
Assembly  to  proceed  to  the  destruction  of  several  religious  houses 
and  that,  in  spite  of  the  alarm  which  such  a  project  is  calculated 


during  the  French  Revolution,  417 

inflict  upon  the  peace  of  the  cloister  and  the  tranquillity  of  families, 
it  is  nearer  to  its  accomplishment  than  we  are  inclined  to  believe. 
Can  it  be  possible  that  establishments,  of  which  some  exercise  so 
favourable  an  influence  upon  religion  by  means  of  charity,  and  of 
which  others  are  so  necessary  for  the  education  of  the  female  sex, 
while  all  are  useful  to  innocence  by  the  safe  retreat  which  they 
afford, — can  have  been  irrevocably  proscribed  ?  Are  we  to  fear 
that  an  order  which  in  all  ages  has  deserved  the  protection  of 
sovereigns,  the  esteem  of  the  people,  the  gratitude  of  so  many- 
private  individuals,  has  been  devoted  to  a  disastrous  reduction  of  its 
numbers  ?  And  will  you  suffer  the  house  in  which  the  august  aunt 
of  a  citizen  monarch  has  just  closed  the  happiest  years  of  her  life, 
and  in  which  she  had  refused  every  mark  of  distinction,  to  be  doomed 
to  destruction  ? 

"  The  riches  of  the  Carmelites  have  never  offered  any  temptation 
to  cupidity ;  while  their  wants  have  not  importunately  assailed  the 
benevolent.  Our  fortune  is  that  evangelical  poverty  which,  after 
duly  acquitting  all  social  duties,  finds  further  means  of  assisting  the 
unfortunate  and  succouring  our  country,  while  it  in  all  times  and 
places  makes  us  rejoice  in  our  privations.  The  most  entire  liberty 
presides  over  our  vows,  the  most  perfect  equality  reigns  in  our 
establishments.  Here  we  know  neither  the  word  rich  nor  noblej 
and  our  sole  dependence  is  upon  the  law. 

"  How  can  a  state  of  life  whose  unceasing  object  it  is  to  offer 
succours  to  the  necessitous,  asylums  to  the  virtuous,  and  bulwarks 
to  the  weak,  be  placed  under  the  ban  of  reprobation  by  an  assembly 
which  has  established  itself  as  the  protector  of  virtue,  of  public 
morality,  and  of  the  indigent  citizen  ? 

"  Deign,  gentlemen,  to  inform  yourselves  of  the  life  which  is  led 
in  all  the  communities  of  our  order,  and  do  not  allow  your  judg- 
ment to  be  biassed  either  by  the  prejudices  of  the  multitude  or  the 
apprehensions  of  humanity.  The  world  is  fond  of  publishing  that 
the  only  inhabitants  of  monasteries  are  victims  slowly  pining  beneath 
a  load  of  unavailing  regret ;  but  we  protest,  in  the  presence  of  God, 
that  if  true  happiness  exists  upon  earth,  we  enjoy  it  under  the 
shadow  of  the  sanctuary  ;  and  that  if  we  had  now  once  more  to 
choose  between  the  world  and  the  cloister,  there  is  not  one  of  us 
who  would  not  ratify  her  choice,  with  even  more  joy  than  when  her 
vows  were  first  pronounced. 

"  You  will  not  have  forgotten,  gentlemen,  that  when  the  Cana- 
dian provinces  passed  from  the  dominion  of  France  under  that  of 
another  power  which  professes  a  religion  different  from  our  own, 
not  only  did  their  new  masters  respect  the  orders  which  they  found 
established  there,  but  took  them  under  their  protection.  May  we 
not  expect  from  the  justice  of  a  protecting  assembly  that  which  our 
brethren  and  our  sisters  obtained  from  the  generosity  of  a  victorious 
people  ?  While  you  are  labouring  with  so  much  zeal  for  the  com- 
mon weal,  would  you  wish  to  spread  amongst  us  a  general  conster- 


413     On  the  Persecution  oj  Nuns  and  Religious  Women 

nation  ?  And  after  solemnly  asserting  the  liberty  of  man,  would 
you  force  us  to  believe  that  we  are  no  longer  free? 

"  No !  you  will  not  tear  us  by  violence  from  those  retreats 
where  we  find  the  source  of  every  consolation.  You  will  open  them 
once  more,  both  to  the  piety  which  brings  to  them  an  assured  voca- 
tion, and  to  the  misery  to  which  they  offer  an  honourable  retreat. 
You  will  remember  those  respected  foreigners  who  have  thrown 
themselves  with  confidence  upon  this  hospitable  nation,  and  have 
found  shelter  and  consolation  within  our  walls ;  and  you  will  think 
that  female  citizens,  who,  under  the  protection  of  the  law,  volun- 
tarily entered  upon  a  state  which  makes  the  happiness  of  their  lives, 
are  only  reclaiming  the  most  inviolable  of  all  rights  when  they  con- 
jure you  to  let  them  die  in  it  in  peace. 

*'  It  is  in  the  name  of  all  our  sisters,  whose  monasteries  are  scat- 
tered over  the  different  provinces  of  the  kingdom,  that  we  have  the 
honour  to  lay  this  address  at  your  feet.  Each  has  signed,  and  would 
have  gladly  done  so  with  her  blood,  that  she  would  prefer  a  thousand 
deaths  to  a  change  of  state,  which  would  be  to  her  a  martyrdom.  The 
proofs  of  their  fidelity  are  in  the  hands  of  a  deputy  of  your  august 
Assembly,*  who  will  produce  them  to  you  when  you  may  be  pleased 
to  require  them.  We  venture  to  express  the  most  entire  accordance 
with  their  sentiments :  we  should  look  upon  an  act  which  should 
disturb  asylums  that  we  have  been  accustomed  to  regard  as  secure 
and  inviolable,  as  a  most  unjust  and  a  most  barbarous  oppression«| 

**  We  are,  with  most  profound  respect, 
"  Nosseigneurs, 

"The  Superior  and  Religious  of  the  Carmelite  Order." 

This  is  in  every  respect  a  remarkable  production.  While 
it  breathes  in  every  line  that  respect  for  constituted  authorities, 
and  that  desire  to  pay  them  due  obedience  in  every  thing  that 
does  not  interfere  with  higher  and  holier  obligations,  which 
invariably  marks  an  earnest  Catholic,  there  is  in  it  a  firmness 
and  largeness  of  view  which  is  not  unworthy  of  the  daughters 
of  S.  Teresa ;  and  at  the  same  time  the  contrast  between  the 
professions  and  incipient  performances  of  the  Assembly  is 
touched  on  with  what  we  had  almost  called  a  sly  vein  ot 
humour.  We  cannot  forbear  once  more  remarking  how  ap- 
posite much  of  this  remonstrance  is  to  the  case  of  nuns  in  our 
own  country,  against  whom  a  somewhat  similar  crusade  has 
been  attempted.  The  claim  on  the  forbearance  of  the  nation, 
of  those  who  have  sought  its  hospitality,  is  as  strong  or  stronger 
at  the  present  time  in  England  than  it  was  in  France,  inas- 
much as  large  investments  have  been  made  by  foreign  orders, 
•  The  Bishop  of  Clermont. 


during  the  French  Revolution^  419' 

on  the  faith  of  that  hospitality,  liberally  conceded  by  this 
country  at  the  time  of  the  French  dispersion. 

We  must  give  one  more  specimen  of  the  feeling  which  in- 
spired the  religious  communities  at  this  time,  in  the  petition 
of  the  Poor  Clares  of  Amiens: 

"  NossEiGNEURS, — Your  decree,  obhging  all  religious  communities 
to  make  a  declaration  of  their  property,  has  been  signified  to  us  as 
well  as  to  the  endowed  houses.  We,  the  poor  nuns  of  St.  Clare,  of 
the  town  of  Amiens,  have  the  honour  to  set  before  you  that  we  have 
absolutely  no  other  revenue  to  which  to  look  for  subsistence  than 
the  free  charity  of  the  faithful.  For  three  hundred  and  forty-five 
years  that  our  monastery  has  been  in  existence,  Divine  Providence 
has  always  provided  for  our  wants  according  to  the  austerity  of  our 
life  and  the  simplicity  of  our  condition.  The  zeal  of  our  first 
mothers  induced  them,  with  unvarying  constancy,  to  refuse  every 
endowment  which  was  offered  to  them.  Amongst  other  persons  who 
were  desirous  of  making  a  foundation  for  us,  M.  le  Blanc,  so  famous 
in  the  bank-note  affair,  was  one  of  the  most  ardent.  As  he  had  a 
sister  in  our  house,  it  was  his  intention  to  purchase  the  estate  of 
Alonville,  near  Amiens,  and  to  settle  it  upon  us.  But  he  met  with 
so  much  opposition  on  the  part  of  his  sister  and  the  whole  com- 
munity, that  he  could  not  succeed  in  accomplishing  his  design.  As 
he  was  not  able  to  overcome  their  delicacy  of  conscience  upon  this 
point,  he  wished  at  least  to  make  them  a  present  of  a  hundred 
thousand  crowns.  This  sum  was,  in  fact,  passed  into  our  house  by 
the  touTi  but  it  did  not  remain  there.  It  was  passed  out  again,  and 
distributed  to  the  poor  of  every  parish  in  the  town,  without  allow- 
ing the  monastery  to  profit  by  it  to  the  extent  of  a  single  sou. 

"  Such  were  the  generous  views  entertained  by  our  first  mothers 
as  to  the  observance  of  their  rule ;  and  we  thank  God  that  such  are 
still  our  own ;  so  that  no  greater  affliction  could  befall  us,  than  to 
find  ourselves  controlled  upon  this  point  of  our  obligations,  which 
we  regard  with  such  peculiar  jealousy.  We  venture  then,  one  and 
all,  being  thirty-five  in  number,  humbly  to  present  ourselves  before 
the  august  National  Assembly  of  this  most  Christian  kingdom,  and 
to  implore  it,  in  the  name  of  God,  not  to  give  us  any  property  or 
income,  but  to  leave  us  in  peace,  to  the  enjoyment  of  the  state  of 
holy  poverty  which  it  is  our  glory  to  profess.  Our  gratitude  for 
this  favour  will  be  eternal;  and  never  will  we  cease  to  pray  that  God 
will  pour  His  most  abundant  blessings  upon  the  French  nation  and 
upon  its  king. 

"Such  are  the  true  sentiments  of  those  who  have  the  honour  to 
subscribe  themselves,  with  the  most  profound  respect, 

"  Nosseigneurs, 
*'  Your  very  humble  and  very  obedient  servants, 

**  S.  DE  S.  HuGUEs,  Abbess,'* 
&c.  &c.  &c. 


420     On  the  Persecution  of  Nuns  and  Religious  Women 

There  is  a  touching  simplicity  about  this  document  which 
goes  at  once  to  the  heart.  The  idea  that  a  legislative  as- 
sembly of  any  kind,  much  more  such  a  one  as  was  now  en- 
gaged in  its  constitutional  labours  in  France,  was  likely  to 
busy  itself  in  forcing  unwilling  endowments  upon  religious 
communities,  could  never  have  entered  into  heads  less  innocent 
or  more  versed  in  the  ways  of  the  world  than  those  of  these 
Poor  Clares.  The  identification  of  the  nation  with  the  Chris- 
tianity it  was  so  soon  to  reject,  and  with  the  king  whom  it  was 
so  soon  to  immolate,  is  an  additional  proof  of  the  little  know- 
ledge which  the  holy  inmates  of  the  cloister  of  Amiens  had 
of  the  storm  which  was  raging  without  their  walls,  and  was 
shortly  to  drive  them  from  their  cherished  shelter.  But  ta 
proceed. 

It  might  have  been  hoped  that  protests  and  petitions  such 
as  those  we  have  reported,  pouring  in  from  every  quarter  of 
the  country,  would  have  stayed  the  progress  of  the  Church 
reformers;  but  this  was  not  to  be.  The  persecution,  once 
fairly  inaugurated,  proceeded  with  fierce  rapidity.  It  was 
about  Easter  1791  that  the  first  definite  steps  towards  the  sup« 
pression  of  monasteries  seem  to  have  been  taken.  On  the  lOtb 
April  the  preachers  of  all  churches  not  parochial  were  inter- 
dicted, and  the  convent  churches  shut.  The  principal  object 
of  this  arbitrary  act  appears  to  have  been  to  force  upon  the 
superiors  of  nunneries  the  recognition  of  the  intrusive  priests 
who  had  taken  the  oath  of  fidelity  to  the  new  civil  constitution 
of  the  clergy.  This  was  in  all  cases  steadily  refused  ;  and  did 
the  limits  of  this  article  permit,  we  could  give  very  curious 
and  interesting  details  of  the  various  means  taken  to  induce 
eompliance.  As  in  the  case  of  the  nuns  of  Minsk,  whose  suf- 
ferings, as  we  have  already  remarked,  had  a  similar  origin^ 
cajolery  and  stratagem  were  tried,  before  the  more  violent 
means  of  overt  persecution  were  resorted  to.  The  Convent  of 
the  Visitation  was  again  the  first  attacked ;  and  the  nuns,  as 
well  as  some  ladies  who  were  in  the  habit  of  coming  to  confes- 
sion and  communion  in  the  interior  of  the  house,  were  ex- 
posed to  insult  and  to  outrage.  Again  and  again  were  they 
summoned  by  the  intrusive  curate,  and  by  the  commissioners 
of  the  Assembly,  to  accept  his  ministrations.  Their  reply 
was,  "  We  do  not  recognise  the  authorit}^  of  the  Assembly  in 
spiritual  things;  but  we  eagerly  seize  this  occasion  of  renevving 
to  God  the  promise  that,  by  the  help  of  His  grace,  wc  will  re- 
main faithful  to  our  sacred  engagements  until  death."  For 
two  months  previous  to  their  final  expulsion,  they  were  de- 
prived of  the  Holy  Sacrifice  of  the  Mass,  of  confession  and  of 
communion,   by  the  municipality,  who   threatened  that  any 


during  the  French  Revolution,  421 

priest  who  dared  to  enter  the  walls  should  be  massacred  upon 
the  threshold.  On  tlie  day  of  their  foundress,  St.  Jane  Frances 
de  Chantal,  the  curate  Brugieres  again  offered  his  services 
through  the  medium  of  the  commissaries.  Their  reply  was 
short  and  clear :  "  We  had  rather  never  hear  Mass  again,  than 
assist  at  one  said  by  an  apostate."  Like  answers  were  given, 
and  a  similar  course  was  pursued,  by  the  superiors  of  many 
sisterhoods  both  in  Paris  and  in  the  provinces ;  and  it  became 
evident  that  nothing  was  to  be  hoped  from  any  endeavours  to 
shake  their  constancy,  or  to  induce  them  either  to  lend  active 
assistance,  or  to  become  passive  participators  in  the  movement. 
Though  they  could  not  be  induced  to  swerve  from  the  fixed 
purpose  of  their  soul,  they  could  at  least  be  punished  for  their 
firmness.  The  time  for  actual  martyrdom  had  not  yet  arrived; 
and  their  persecutors,  with  infernal  ingenuity,  determined  to 
subject  them  to  insults  which  should  cast  reproach  upon  them 
and  ridicule  upon  religion,  while  at  the  same  time  the  faith 
should  reap  no  harvest  of  glory  from  their  sufferings.  The 
spouses  of  Christ  were  destined  to  follow  in  the  footsteps  of 
their  Lord;  the  scourge  preceded  Calvary;  and  to  flagellations 
of  the  most  barbarous  and  infamous  kind  these  Christian  virgins 
were  submitted.  It  will  hardly  be  believed  that  Condorcet, 
one  of  the  lights  of  the  philosophic  school,  was  the  originator 
of  this  atrocious  proposition,  and  did  not  blush  publicly  to  re- 
commend its  adoption.  The  horrible  monsters  who,  disgracing 
the  name  of  women,  figured  in  all  the  worst  atrocities  of  the 
revolution,  and  were  subsequently  known  as  tlie  furies  of  the 
guillotine,  lent  themselves  as  the  willing  instruments  of  these 
horrors,  though  they  were  reported  to  have  complained  that 
twenty  sous  a  day  was  but  poor  pay  for  all  they  had  to  do. 
The  watch-word  of  aristocrate  was  now  exchanged  for  that  of 
devote.  Under  this  denomination  were  included  not  only  nuns, 
but  women  of  the  world  of  known  piety ;  and  to  scourge  the 
saints  {foiietter  les  devotes)  became  one  of  the  new  spectacles  and 
excitements  of  the  mob  ot"  Paris.  It  is  no  less  sad  than  strange 
that  the  sisters  of  St.  Vincent  of  Paul,  whose  ministrations 
had  brought  consolation  to  the  homes  and  hearths  of  thousands 
of  their  persecutors,  were  the  chief  sufferers  by  this  barbarity. 
Two  of  their  number,  one  of  them  eighty  years  of  age,  died 
victims  of  the  cruel  scourgings  which  they  received  on  the 
19th  April,  1791.  We  have  the  most  undoubted  testimony 
to  these  facts  in  the  eloquent  language  of  M.  Necker,  himself  a 
Protestant,  and  an  authority  beyond  suspicion.  "  It  is,"  sa3^s 
he,  "  on  the  holy  sisters  of  charity  that  a  band,  excited  to 
frenzy,  have  lately  dared  to  lay  their  impious  hands;  and,  in 
despite  of  the  purity  of  their  sex,  and  the  innocence  of  their 


422     On  the  Persecution  of  Nuns  and  Religious  Women 

hearts,  it  is  by  insult  more  barbarous  than  death  that  they 
have  dared  to  exhibit  their  madness."  He  continues,  in  a 
Strain  of  animated  description,  to  relate  the  unwearied  charities 
and  unceasing  benevolence  of  these  incomparable  women, 
and  concludes  with  the  following  address  to  their  tormentors : 
"  But  you,  perhaps,  venture  to  believe  that  they  will  add  the 
patient  endurance  of  the  indignities  which  you  inflict  upon 
them  to  the  innumerable  sacrifices  they  have  imposed  upon 
themselves.  Yes,  they  will  do  so ;  even  to  that  point  their 
unimaginable  virtue  will  extend.  But  there  is  a  God  of 
justice,  who  will  accept  this  homage  at  their  hand,  and  with 
what  eyes  will  He  regard  their  ungrateful  oppressors  ?"* 

We  have  already,  perhaps,  given  too  much  time  to  the 
species  of  introduction  which  we  have  thought  it  well  to  m.ake; 
and  we  will  not,  therefore,  pursue  the  painful  history  of  these 
saintly  sisterhoods  through  the  yet  more  stormy  period  of  the 
reign  of  terror.  Our  readers  are  well  aware  of  the  numbers 
who  mounted  the  fatal  cart  at  the  doors  of  the  Abbaye  or  the 
Conciergerie,  and,  after  consoling  their  fellow-sufferers  during 
the  brief  journey  to  the  scaffold,  meekly  bowed  their  heads 
beneath  the  knife  of  the  guillotine. 

While  these  scenes  were  being  enacted  in  Paris,  the  same 
career  of  madness  and  of  blood  was  run  in  most  of  the  depart- 
ments; and  it  is  from  the  records  of  the  revolution  in  its  more 
distant  localities  that  we  are  best  enabled  to  procure  examples 
of  individual  virtue  and  heroism,  such  as  those  to  which  wei 
alluded  in  the  beginning  of  this  article.  It  was  more  difficultf 
to  preserve  such  memorials  among  the  numberless  victims  who 
perished  in  Paris.  Throughout  the  whole  of  that  extraordi- 
nary period,  event  followed  event  with  such  rapidity,  and  the 
catalogue  of  the  proscribed  was  so  large,  that  the  last  moments 
of  even  the  most  important  actors  have  been  but  scantily 
chronicled.  In  the  provinces,  however,  this  was  not  the  case 
in  the  same  degree.  The  existence  of  a  more  restricted  popu- 
lation, united  by  ties  of  kindred  and  of  neighbourhood,  and 
long  accustomed  to  a  constant  personal  intercourse  with  each 
other,  although  it  did  not  prevent  the  spread  of  the  moral 
plague  which  desolated  France,  yet  had  a  tendency  to  check 
its  course,  and  at  all  events  to  excite  an  interest  in  the  fate  of 
individual  sufferers.  It  is  to  the  south  that  we  are  principally 
to  look  for  detailed  and  intimate  pictures  of  the  period.  The 
hot  Proven9al  blood,  capable,  according  to  the  direction  giveaj 
to  it,  either  of  the  most  atrocious  crimes  or  of  acts  of  the  most 
exalted  virtue,  was  stirred  to  its  inmost  depths.  The  part 
which  was  played  by  the  southern  provinces  in  the  political 
•  Sur  rAdministration  de  M.  Necker,  p.  4. 


i 


during  the  French  Revolution,  4:23 

history  of  the  time  is  known  to  every  one,  and  their  share  in 
the  religious  movement  was  not  less  remarkable.  For  this 
there  were  other  reasons,  upon  which  this  is  not  the  time  to 
enter;  but  we  may  briefly  remind  the  reader  that,  so  far  back 
as  the  days  of  St.  Dominic  and  of  Innocent  III.,  heresy  had 
established  itself  in  that  fair  land,  and  that  the  element  of 
religious  discord  has  never  since  entirely  ceased  to  exercise 
its  baneful  influence  there.  This  fact  would  alone  suffice  to 
account  for  the  peculiar  ferocity  which  was  there  displayed  at 
the  period  upon  which  we  are  engaged,  and  for  the  constancy 
with  which  it  was  met.  There  too,  as  at  Paris,  the  instiga- 
tors of  brutality  and  outrage  were  not  contented  to  leave 
things  to  take  their  own  course  ;  money  was  freely  spent  as 
an  incentive  to  crime ;  and  the  following  anecdote,  bearing 
upon  this  point,  is  related  upon  good  authority. 

At  Casoul,  a  small  town  in  the  diocese  of  Beziers,  Sister 
Cassin,  a  nun  twenty-two  years  of  age,  was  stopped  by  a  sav- 
age in  the  uniform  of  the  National  Guard.  "  Wretch,"  said 
he,  "  when  are  you  coming  to  the  parish  church  ?"  "  When 
my  legitimate  pastor  returns  thither,"  was  her  reply,  "and 
not  before."  He  drew  his  sword,  with  curses  on  her  fana- 
ticism. "  Sir,"  said  the  sister,  calmly,  **  give  me  a  few 
moments  to  recommend  myself  to  God."  She  knelt  down, 
and  after  a  short  prayer  thus  addressed  him :  "  I  am  ready, 
strike  when  you  please.  May  God  forgive  you,  as  I  do."  The 
wretched  man  was  completely  disarmed  by  this  gentle  firm- 
ness. He  raised  her  from  her  knees,  saying,  **  I  was  paid  to 
kill  one  of  you.  We  want  a  head  to  carry  round  to  all  your 
houses  on  a  pike,  and  to  see  what  intimidation  will  do  among 
your  sisters.     But  I  have  not  the  heart  to  take  yours." 

In  common  with  other  districts  of  France,  the  south  had 
its  revolutionary  tribunal,  holding  its  head-quarters  at  Orange, 
This  tribunal  had  been  established  at  the  instance  of  Maignet, 
who  had  been  for  some  time  exercising  a  complete  dictator- 
ship in  the  department  of  the  Vaucluse.  It  was  formed  upon 
the  model  of  the  revolutionary  tribunal  of  Paris,  which,  in  ac- 
cordance with  the  law  of  the  22d  Prairial  (the  10th  of  June), 
suppressed  all  inconvenient  formalities,  and  contented  itself 
with  obtaining  any  thing  which  might  fall  under  the  general 
denomination  of  moral  evidence  against  those  submitted  to  it. 
The  court  of  Orange  varied  from  its  prototype  in  having  even 
less  of  the  ordinary  forms  of  justice.  It  made  no  pretence  at 
a  jury,  but  was  composed  of  five  irresponsible  judges,  whose 
functions  consisted  in  condemning  the  unfortunates  brought 
before  them  by  Maignet,  who,  as  the  Representant  en  Mis- 
jion,  kept  the  tribunal  supplied  by  continually  patrolling  the 


424      Ofi  the  Persecution  of  Nmis  and  Religious  Women 

country  in  search  of  victims.  The  history  of  a  certain  num- 
ber of  these  shall  be  told  in  the  words  of  their  unknown 
historian.  The  account  is  very  touching,  from  its  extreme 
simplicity,  and  the  unpretending  way  in  which  it  places  the 
last  days  of  the  nuns,  who  are  the  subject  of  it,  before  our 
eyes.  It  leaves  to  the  imagination  of  the  reader  to  supply 
all  that  is  wanting  to  complete  the  picture  of  these  pure  souls 
maintaining  the  cherished  routine  of  their  community  life 
amidst  all  the  horrors  and  distractions  of  a  prison,  and  sup- 
plying tlie  loss  of  that  Presence  which  had  been  their  conso- 
lation upon  earth,  by  an  unceasing  preparation  for  the  beatific 
vision  which  they  were  shortly  to  enjoy  in  heaven. 

It  was  on  the  2d  of  May,  1794,  that  forty-two  nuns  of 
Bollene  were  transferred  to  the  prison  of  Orange.  They  im- 
mediately began  to  prepare  for  their  final  sacrifice  by  the 
exercise  of  all  the  virtues  of  religion,  by  continued  prayer,  by 
profound  silence  and  recollection,  and  by  increased  abstinence 
both  with  regard  to  food  and  to  sleep.  Their  rule  of  life  was 
as  follows  : 

Punctually  at  5  o'clock  their  pious  exercises  began  with 
an  hour  of  community  prayer,  followed  by  the  office  and  the 
recital  of  the  Mass  prayers. 

At  8  o'clock  they  reassembled,  and  united  in  the  litanies 
of  the  saints,  the  preparation  for  death,  the  prayers  for  con- 
fession, for  spiritual  communion  received  by  way  of  Viaticum, 
and  for  extreme  unction.  They  then  renewed  their  baptismal 
and  confirmation  promises,  as  well  as  their  religious  vows. 
At  tliis  time  it  was  not  uncommon  for  some  of  them  to  ex- 
claim in  the  transports  of  their  fervour,  *'  Yes,  I  am  a  nun ; 
and  this  is  my  greatest  consolation.  I  thank  Thee,  O  Lord, 
for  having  vouchsafed  me  this  grace."  9  o'clock  was  the  hour 
for  the  muster  of  the  prisoners,  when  each  of  them  joyfully 
prepared  herself  to  appear  before  the  revolutionary  tribunal. 
One  or  other  would  frequently  volunteer  to  take  the  first  turn 
for  trial,  particularly  the  two  sisters  Roumiilon,  who  were 
nevertheless  separated,  one  being  carried  off,  and  the  other  left 
for  the  next  day.  They  all  felt  that  it  was  but  a  short  part- 
ing ;  and  they  left  one  another  without  regret,  in  the  hope  of 
soon  once  more  meeting  in  heaven.  From  the  moment  when 
their  loved  companions  left  them  to  be  led  before  the  judges, 
those  who  remained  betook  themselves  to  prayer,  in  order  U 
implore  the  light  of  the  Holy  Spirit  in  the  dread  hour  of  trial. 

Then  were  thousands  of  Hail  Maries  addressed  to  tl)( 
Blessed  Virgin  ;  then  arose  a  concert  of  unnumbered  litanies; 
then  were  the  words  of  Jesus  on  the  cross  prayed  over  and 
meditated  upon  again  and  again  ;  in  short,  it  was  a  season  of 


during  the  French  Revolution,  4>25 

uninterrupted  prayer  until  5  p.m.,  when  office  was  said.  When 
the  roll  of  the  drum  announced  that  the  victims  of  the  day 
were  heing  led  to  execution,  the  prayers  for  the  recommenda- 
tion of  a  soul  were  recited.  After  6  o'clock  was  a  moment  of 
mutual  congratulation,  in  which  the  members  of  the  commu- 
nity whose  sisters  had  just  been  sent  to  heaven  had  the  largest 
share;  and  the  Laudate  was  chanted  with  a  foretaste  of  celestial 
joy.  Each  of  the  victims  of  this  chosen  band  endeavoured  to 
prepare  for  martyrdom  by  the  most  stainless  purity  of  con- 
science ;  they  accused  themselves  to  their  superior  of  their 
slightest  faults,  keeping  a  continual  retreat  and  an  unbroken 
silence.  Although  belonging  to  different  communities,  they 
lived  in  common  like  the  early  Christians,  and  had  mingled 
in  a  common  stock  their  little  stores  of  linen,  of  provisions, 
and  of  assignats.  They  were,  as  we  have  said,  forty-two 
religious,  who  had  doomed  themselves  to  a  voluntary  death  by 
refusing  to  take  the  oath  of  liberty  and  equality.  Among 
these,  it  pleased  their  Heavenly  Spouse  to  choose  thirty-two; 
and  the  ten  who  remained  lamented  that  they  were  not  allowed 
to  follow  their  companions  to  the  marriage  of  the  Bridegroom. 
Five  were  acquitted  by  the  judges  to  satisfy  the  people ;  and 
the  tribunal  was  closed  before  the  last  five  could  be  tried. 

The  joy  which  illumined  the  faces  of  these  holy  maidens 
after  their  sentence  was  a  source  of  great  encouragement  to 
the  other  condemned  prisoners,  and  served  to  inspire  them 
with  the  desire  of  death.  It  often  happened  that  men  who 
were  overwhelmed  with  anxiety  at  the  thought  of  their  wives 
and  children  were  induced  to  make  an  entire  and  hearty  sacri- 
fice of  them,  by  the  gentle  and  touching  exhortations  of  the 
nuns.  On  one  occasion  they  spent  half  an  hour  in  prayer 
with  their  arms  extended  {en  croix).  They  were  interceding 
and  imploring  strength  for  the  father  of  a  numerous  family, 
who  was  giving  himself  up  to  despair.  Their  pra3'ers  were 
answered,  and  they  had  the  consolation  of  accompanying  him 
to  the  scaffold  in  a  thoroughly  Christian  frame  of  mind.  "  We 
have  been  hindered  from  saying  our  vespers,"  observed  some 
of  them,  when  all  was  over  ;  '^  never  mind,  we  will  sing  them 
in  heaven."  "  Oh,  that  will  be  too  good  news,"  cried  Sister 
des  Anges  Rocher  ;   "  perhaps  it  may  not  be  true." 

The  lay  sister,  S.  Andre  Sage  fell  into  a  fit  of  great  sad- 
ness on  the  day  before  her  death,  and  said  to  one  of  her 
companions,  **  I  fear  that  God  does  not  think  me  worthy  of 
martyrdom."  Sister  S.  Bernard  Roumillon  had  long  been  in 
the  habit  of  praying  to  the  Blessed  Virgin  that  she  might  die 
on  Saturday,  or  on  a  day  consecrated  by  one  of  her  feasts  ; 
she  obtained  her  desire,  having  been  martyred  on  the  day  of 


42Q     On  the  Persecution  of  Nuiis  and  Religious  Women 

Our  Lady  of  Mount  Carmel.  The  same  had  been  the  prayer 
of  Sister  Just  of  the  Blessed  Sacrament,  continued  for  a  period 
of  thirteen  years.  She,  too,  had  the  happiness  of  making  the 
sacrifice  of  her  life  on  the  same  day.  "  We  owe  more,"  said 
she  in  the  presence  of  the  gaolers, — "  we  owe  more  to  our 
judges  than  to  our  fathers  and  mothers.  Our  parents  only 
gave  us  temporal  existence,  but  our  judges  are  the  means  of 
securing  us  eternal  life."  One  of  the  guards  was  softened  to 
tears  at  this  remark,  and  a  peasant  came  forward  to  touch  her 
hand.  She  could  not  restrain  the  expression  of  the  divine 
love  with  which  her  heart  was  on  fire,  and  repeatedly  ex- 
claimed, "  What  bliss  !  I  shall  soon  be  in  heaven.  I  cannot 
support  this  excess  of  joy."  S.  St.  Fran9oise,  an  Ursuline  of 
Carpentras,  said  on  the  eve  of  her  death,  "  What  joy  !  we  are 
going  to  behold  our  Spouse."  Some  of  them  were  at  first  im- 
pressed with  a  terror  of  death ;  but  this  wore  off  day  by  day, 
and  as  the  hour  of  execution  approached,  they  enjoyed  the 
most  perfect  calm  and  the  profoundest  peace. 

Some  gens-d'armes,  who  were  witnesses  of  this  unshaken 
constancy,  were  heard  to  exclaim  to  others,  in  a  blasphemous 
and  sneering  tone,  "  Look  at  these  .  .  .  ,  every  one  of  them 
dies  with  a  smile  on  her  face." 

"  Who  are  you  ?"  said  one  of  the  judges  to  Sister  Theresa 
Consolant.  "  I  am  a  daughter  of  the  Church,"  was  her  reply, 
"  And  who  are  you  ?"  said  he  to  Sister  Claire  du  Bas.  *^  I  am 
a  nun,"  said  she,  "and  will  remain  so  till  I  die."  Sister  Ger- 
trude d'Alausier  thanked  her  judges  for  the  happiness  which 
through  their  means  she  was  about  to  enjoy,  and  kissed  the 
guillotine  on  reaching  it.  At  her  awaking  on  the  morning  of 
her  death,  she  found  herself  possessed  by  a  sense  of  unac- 
customed joy,  which  found  relief  in  tears.  "I  am  in  ecstasy," 
she  repeated  again  and  again :  "  I  am  beside  myself.  I  am 
sure  that  I  shall  die  to-day."  She  was  afterwards  seized  with 
apprehension  lest  this  might  have  been  an  emotion  of  pride, 
and  the  others  were  obliged  to  reassure  and  tranquillise  her. 
Sister  St.  Pelagie  Bes,  after  her  condemnation,  took  a  box  of 
bonbons  out  of  her  pocket,  and  distributed  them  to  all  those 
who  had  been  sentenced  with  her,  saying,  "These  are  my 
wedding  sweetmeats;"  and  they  were  eaten  with  a  simple  and 
innocent  joy.  Sister  des  Anges  de  Rocher  was  residing  with 
her  father,  when  circumstances  led  her  to  believe  that  she 
might  possibly  be  arrested  ;  she  begged  her  venerable  parent, 
an  old  man  of  eighty,  to  advise  her  whether  she  ought  to  en^ 
deavour  to  escape  tliis  danger;  "Daughter,"  said  he,  "  y( 
can  have  no  difficulty  in  concealing  yourself;  but  first  considi 
well,  in  the  sight  of  God,  whether  by  so  doing  you  may  not 


during  the  French  Revolution,  427 

interfering  with  His  adorable  designs  upon  you,  in  case  He  may 
have  chosen  you  to  be  one  of  the  victims  destined  to  appease 
His  wrath.  I  would  say  to  you  as  Mardochai  said  to  Esther, 
*  You  are  not  on  the  throne  for  yourself,  but  for  your  people,'  " 
Tliis  Christian  counsel,  inspired  by  God  Himself,  made  a  lively 
impression  on  the  mind  and  heart  of  his  daughter.  She  joy- 
fully submitted  to  be  arrested ;  and  as  a  reward  for  her  fidelit}', 
the  Lord  gave  her  an  interior  consciousness  of  the  day  ap- 
pointed for  the  consummation  of  her  sacrifice.  The  evening 
before  her  death,  at  the  night  prayers,  she  asked  pardon  of  all 
her  companions,  and  entreated  their  earnest  prayers,  as  she 
was  to  suffer  the  next  day.  After  her  sentence  had  been 
read,  she  thanked  the  judges  with  much  cheerfulness,  for  pro- 
curing her  the  happiness  of  going  to  be  united  with  the  holy 
angels. 

The  names  of  these  holy  women  follow ;  and  we  will  not 
withhold  from  our  readers  the  satisfaction  of  becoming,  as  it 
were,  personally  acquainted  with  the  meek  sufferers,  with 
whose  fate  we  are  sure  they  will  have  sympathised  ;  and  of  thus 
more  vividly  realising  their  existence,  and  investing  them  with 
the  interest  which  attaches  to  personal  identity.  In  the  words 
of  the  cry  which,  used  in  hideous  mockery  by  the  news-ven- 
dors, daily  announced  to  the  inmates  of  the  Parisian  prisons 
the  list  of  those  who  had  perished  during  the  day,  but  which 
we  now  adopt  in  serious  and  thoughtful  earnest,  "  Void  celles 
qui  ont  gagne  a  la  loferie  de  la  sainte  guillotine" 

"  Sisters  S.  Bernard,  Susanne  Guillard,  Marie  Anne  Cochet,  Marie 
Magdeleine  Guillancier,  Agnes  Roumillon,  Gertrude  d'Alausier, 
Elizabeth  Pellissier,  Pelagie  Bes,  Marguerite  Barraud,  Martin  du 
St.  Sacrement,  Magdeleine,  Eleonore,  Catherine,  Marie  Louise, 
Marie  Anne,  Elizabeth,  S.  Alexis,  Anastasie,  Fran^oise,  Henriette, 
Aimee,  Marie  S.  Andre,  Marie  Anne,  Jeanne,  Fran^oise,  Marie 
Therese  Consolant,  Claire  du  Bas,  Guarlier,  Magdeleine  Catherine, 
Marguerite  Bone." 

But  few  of  the  family  names,  simple  and  unhonoured  as 
they  are,  are  given  ;  most  of  them  are  only  distinguished  by 
their  names  of  baptism  or  of  religion,  the  symbols  of  the  vows, 
their  fidelity  to  which  was  preserved  at  the  price  of  life  itself. 
Of  the  forty-two  who  were  imprisoned,  eleven  were  Ursulines, 
twelve  of  the  order  of  the  Blessed  Sacrament,  and  nineteen 
were  sisters  of  other  communities,  belonging  some  to  Avignon, 
and  some  to  Pont  St.  Esprit. 

It  is  difficult  to  suppress  a  feeling  of  satisfaction  at  learn- 
ing that  a  sure  though  slow  retribution  overtook  the  members 
of  the  unhallowed  tribunal  which   condemned  them.     They 


428  The  Life  of  a  Conspirator, 

*. 

were  executed,  in  pursuance  of  legal  sentence,  early  in  the 
month  of  July  1795,  amonp:  the  first  offerings  made  by  the 
southern  provinces  to  the  unfailing  Nemesis  of  reaction,  which 
began  to  vindicate  its  eternal  claim  in  Paris  on  the  memorable 
8th  of  Thermidor,  1794. 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  CONSPIRATOR. 

Lorenzo  Benoni;    or,   Passages  in  the  Life   of  an  Italian. 
Edited  by  a  Friend.     Edinburgh :  Constable  and  Co. 

When  a  rogue  confirms  what  a  Jesuit  has  made  known,  it  is 
probable  that  there  is  some  truth  in  the  statement.  To  this 
maxim  the  majority  of  our  fellow-countrymen  would  object 
that,  Jesuits  and  rogues  being  convertible  terms,  the  supposed 
statement  was  purely  ex  parte,  after  all.  As,  however,  we 
differ  from  the  majority  on  this  point  as  well  as  on  many  others, 
we  are  about  to  take  occasion  to  confirm  certain  astonishing 
Jesuit  assertions  made  not  long  ago  in  the  Rambler,  on  the 
authority  of  a  very  pretty  rogue,  of  the  very  kind  implicated 
in  the  accusations  brought  forward  by  our  Jesuit  authority-. 

The  Jew  of  Verona,  reviewed  in  the  Rambler  of  last  Octo- 
ber, made  certain  revelations  respecting  the  secret  societies  of 
Ital}^  which  were   not  a  little  astonishing   to  many  of  our 
readers,  till  then  unacquainted  with  the  proceedings  of  those 
double-dyed  villains,   the  Italian  revolutionists.     To   a  quia^ 
Englishman,  living  in  a  land  where  Protestantism  and  infidelitB 
are   uppermost,  and  consequently  are   not  driven    to   betake 
themselves  to  the  dark  for  plotting  the  overthrow  of  a  Catholic 
government,   the  history   of  Italian   carbonarism,    and  oth^B 
underground  machinery,  sounds  like  a  wild,  romance.     On^ 
fancies  that  such  things  could  not  be  in  this  day  of  ours.     We 
entertain  so  profound  a  conviction  that  the  nineteenth  century 
has  found  out  every  thing,  divine  and  human,  that  it  seems 
incredible  that  unknown  associations  should  still  exist,  com- 
prehending every  rank  and  age  in  their  vast  nunjbers,  bound 
together  by  iron  ties  and  frightful  oaths,  and  prepared  for 
every  wickedness  which  the  caution  of  their  leaders  may  think 
practicable.    Still,  these  societies  are  existing  at  this  very  hour. 
They  are  spread  like  a  network  through  Italian  society,  an( 
they  are  but  branches  of  other  societies  existing  in  Franc* 
Germany,  Switzerland,   and   elsewhere.     Whether   the  Czi 
keeps  them  out  of  Russia,  we  do  not  know ;  probably  verj 


Tlie  Life  of  a  Conspirator,  4^ 

.„r  from  it.  In  China  similar  associations  exist  to  an  immense 
extent.  In  fact,  there  are  few  parts  of  the  world  where  they 
are  not  ever  at  work,  or  preparing  to  work.  In  this  country, 
the  Freemasons  are  the  only  secret  society  of  any  importance ; 
and  mischievous  as  freemasonry  was  in  former  ages,  its  Eng- 
lish adherents  have  now  become  a  mere  community  of  foolish 
persons,  who  love  good  dinners  and  the  farce  of  harmless  mys- 
tification. They  are  forbidden  by  the  Church,  because  every 
secret  society  is  forbidden,  as  the  principle  of  secrecy  is  totally 
incompatible  with  the  enforcement  of  divine  and  human  laws.- 
Since  we  wrote  our  remarks  on  the  Jesuit  Father  Bres- 
ciani's  Jew  of  Verona,  we  have  met  with  some  curious  corro- 
borations of  his  statements  in  a  book  lately  published  by  a 
Sardinian  revolutionist,  under  the  title  oi  Lorenzo  Benoni;  or, 
Passages  in  the  Life  of  an  Italian.  The  real  name  of  the 
author  is  said  to  be  RufRni,  and  his  book  is  nothing  else  than 
a  history  of  his  own  life,  from  his  childhood  till  the  period 
when,  having  joined  the  secret  societies,  he  fled  from  Italy  on 
the  explosion  of  the  revolutionar}'^  plots  in  Sardinia  in  1833. 
A  large  portion  of  Signor  Ruffini's  story  is  extremely  tedious, 
detailing  the  events  of  school  and  college  life  with  a  common- 
place minuteness  any  thing  but  graphic  or  interesting.  The 
most  amusing  part  of  his  recollections  occurs  at  the  very  begin- 
ning of  his  book,  and  is  worth  quoting : 

"  Every  day,  as  surely  as  the  day  came,  when  the  clock  struck 
eleven,  my  uncle  the  canon  invariably  said  Mass,  at  which  I  in- 
variably officiated  as  his  assistant.  This  ceremony  had  long  lost 
the  attraction  of  novelty,  having  been  repeated  daily  for  two  whole 
years  ;  and  as,  besides,  my  uncle's  Mass  was  very  long,  it  is  need- 
less to  say  that  I  went  through  it  with  a  feeling  of  intense  ennui. 
So,  when,  at  a  certain  moment,  after  having  helped  the  priest  to  the 
wine  and  water,  it  was  my  duty  to  replace  the  sacred  phials  behind 
a  curtain  on  the  left  of  the  altar,  I  never  failed,  by  way  of  relief,  to 
take,  under  cover  of  that  same  curtain,  a  long  pull  at  the  phial  of 
wine.  This  was  only  for  the  fun,  as  wine  was  not  with  me  a 
favourite  beverage. 

''  Mass  over,  while  my  uncle  laid  aside  his  robes,  and  returned 
thanks  in  the  vestry,  I  regularly  went  to  the  post-office  to  fetch  his 
letters,  which  I  as  regularly  placed  upon  his  table-napkin  ;  for,  by 
the  time  that  I  got  home,  it  was  nearly  twelve  o'clock,  our  dinner- 
hour,  and  the  table  was  laid. 

"  My  uncle,  my  father's  eldest  brother,  lived  in  a  small  country 
town,  about  half-way  between  Genoa  and  Nice,  where  he  managed 
but  indifferently  well  my  mother's  estates,  consisting  chiefly  of 
olive  plantations.  I  do  not  know  the  motives  which  induced  my 
father,  who  resided  in  Genoa  (my  mother  I  do  not  mention,  because 
she  was  not  allowed  a  deliberative  voice  in  any  matter  whatever), 


430  The  Life  of  a  Conspirator, 

to  send  his  first-born,  as  soon  as  he  attained  the  age  of  seven  years, 
to  the  h'ttle  country  town  above  mentioned,  there  to  commence  his 
education  under  the  direction  of  the  aforesaid  uncle  the  canon.  All 
I  know  is,  that  this  precedent  had  been  strictly  adhered  to  with  my 
second  brother  Caesar,  and  with  myself,  the  third-born,  who,  each 
in  our  turn,  had  been  disposed  of  in  the  same  way;  that  is,  sent  to 
be  fashioned  in  manners,  and  initiated  in  the  rudiments  of  the  Latin 
tongue,  under  the  shade  of  our  maternal  olive-trees ;  from  thence 
to  pass  to  the  Royal  College  of  Genoa,  which  was  the  second  and 
unavoidable  stage  of  our  progress  in  life. 

*'  My  uncle  was  a  weak-minded,  rather  good  than  bad  sort  of 
man,  about  sixty,  who  spent  one  half  of  the  year  in  expecting  won- 
ders from  the  approaching  crop,  and  the  other  half  in  bewailing  the 
failure  of  his  hopes  ;  thus  for  ever  oscillating  between  the  two  ex- 
tremes of  unbounded  expectation  and  utter  despair.  My  uncle 
had  only  one  distinct  idea  in  his  brain — olives  ;  only  one  interest  in 
life — olives  ;  only  one  topic  of  discussion,  either  at  home  or  abroad 
— olives.  Olives  of  every  size  and  description — salted  olives,  dried 
olives,  pickled  olives — encumbered  the  table  at  dinner  and  supper, 
and  no  dish  was  served  without  the  seasoning  of  olives.  All  my 
uncle's  walks,  in  which  I  was  regularly  ordered  to  accompany  him, 
had  for  their  sole  object  to  observe  the  appearance  of  the  olives  on 
the  trees,  and  to  watch  their  progress  ;  and  at  a  certain  period  of 
the  year  we  literally  trod  on  olives,  which  were  strewed  a  foot  deep 
on  the  floor  of  our  large  hall.  The  very  air  we  breathed  was  im- 
pregnated with  olive  emanations. 

*'  The  rare  intervals  in  which  olives  were  let  alone  were  employed 
by  my  uncle  in  abusing  France  and  Frenchmen.  This  was  a  sort 
of  secondary  hobby  with  him.  What  France  or  the  French  had 
done  to  the  old  canon  I  do  not  know,  but  I  well  remember  a  cer- 
tain anecdote  on  the  subject,  which  he  would  repeat  over  and  over 
again,  with  ever-renewed  mirth,  and  no  little  pride.  Being  once  in 
the  vicinity  of  the  Var,  where  this  river  separates  the  Sardinian  States 
from  France,  he  had  crossed  the  bridge,  gone  over  to  the  French  side, 
bit  his  thumb  at  France,  and  come  back  triumphant.  Let  France 
get  out  of  it  as  she  can  ! 

'*  My  uncle,  as  I  said,  was  good  rather  than  bad.  Unfortunately, 
Margherita,  his  old  housekeeper,  who  led  him  completely  by  the 
nose,  was  bad  rather  than  good.  This  lady  eyed  me  in  the  light  of 
an  intruder  in  her  house,  and  treated  me  accordingly.  She  grudged 
me  every  crumb  of  bread  I  ate  :  she  it  was  who  used  to  help  me  at 
table,  and  she  managed  it  so  nicely,  that  though  my  plate  appeared 
tolerably  well  furnished,  still  I  could  scarcely  make  out  of  its  con- 
tents wherewithal  to  satisfy  the  moderate  cravings  of  an  appetite 
far  from  voracious.  The  regular  meals  once  over,  Margherita  would 
lock  up  so  strictly  all  the  remnants,  that  the  most  accurate  search 
throughout  the  house  could  not  have  brought  about  the  discovery 
of  eatables  sufficient  to  treat  a  mouse  with.  Really,  1  felt  at  times 
so  hungry,  that  1  could  almost  have  eaten  the  soles  of  my  shoe- 


I 


The  Life  of  a  Conspirator.  431 

Margherita  was  not  moved  by  argument  or  entreaty ;  and  any  appeal 
to  my  uncle  made  the  matter  worse,  inasmuch  as  it  drew  upon  me 
an  indefinite  number  of  smart  boxes  on  the  ear  from  the  worthy 
lady — a  summary  proceeding  which  seemed  to  afford  her  a  good 
deal  of  gratification,  and  in  which  she  indulged  much  oftener  than 
necessary,  considering  the  little,  puny,  sickly,  quiet  creature  that  I 
was,  with  any  thing,  God  knows,  but  exuberant  life  about  me. 

"  A  tall,  lanky,  sallow-faced,  half-starved  young  abbe  used  to 
come  every  day  after  dinner  to  initiate  me  into  the  mysteries  of  the 
Latin  language,  at  the  rate  of  threepence  an  hour.  Three-penny 
Latin  cannot  be  expected  to  be  first-rate,  which  will  account  for  my 
master's  teaching  me  to  decline  bonus,  bonius,  comparative  boniorf 
superlative  bonissimus.  What  struck  me  most  in  this  worthy  gentle- 
man was  a  mysterious  complaint  of  the  stomach  under  which  he 
laboured,  attacks  of  wliich  would  seize  him  every  day,  just  at  the 
very  moment  when  my  uncle  shut  the  house-door  as  he  went  out  to 
walk.  The  poor  man  suffered  excruciating  pains,  which  could  only 
be  alleviated  by  repeated  applications  to  a  certain  huge  green  wine- 
bottle  which  stood  in  a  corner  of  the  pantry,  wine  being  the  only 
article  of  consumption  which,  owing  to  my  not  liking  it,  was  not 
kept  under  lock  and  key.  That  wine  should  act  as  a  specific  against 
stomach-complaints  was  singular  enough  ;  but  what  was  still  more 
so  was,  that  whenever  my  uncle  happened  to  stay  at  home  during 
the  lesson,  my  worthy  friend  would  have  no  attack  at  all,  but,  by 
way  of  compensation,  would  grow  so  ill-tempered,  that  he  found 
fault  with  every  thing  I  did  or  said." 

The  young  gentleman  wdio  thus  began  life,  speedily  grew 
up  as  he  commenced.  He  '*  assisted,"  against  his  uncle's 
commands,  at  a  tremendous  assault  of  marrow-bones  and 
cleavers,  occasioned  by  the  second  marriage  of  a  friend  of  the 
canon's,  at  the  age  of  seventy-four.  In  consequence,  our  ju- 
vrenile  serenader  was  locked  up  until  he  acknowledged  his 
fault ;  more,  it  seems,  through  Margherita's  harshness  than  by 
the  uncle's  wishes.  But  our  youngster  was  determined  ;  and, 
rather  than  submit,  he  ran  away  home  to  his  father  and  mother. 
His  parents  made  the  best  of  the  job,  and  put  the  boy  to 
school ;  and  then,  for  about  200  pages,  does  Signor  Ruffini 
relate  a  series  of  as  uninteresting  a  collection  of  schoolboy  and 
youthful  follies,  successes,  failures,  and  vagaries,  as  ever  conceit 
put  down  upon  paper. 

As  he  grew  up,  his  master-passion  came  to  be  the  desire  of 
admittance  among  the  Carbonari ;  and  he  details  the  efforts  he 
made  for  the  attainment  of  his  end.  Carbonarism,  or  rather 
the  name  carhonarOydccose  in  the  kingdom  of  Naples  during 
the  French  occupation.  The  word  comes  from  carbone  (char- 
coal), the  making  of  which  supplied  the  means  of  existence  to 
certain  Neapolitans  who  fled  into  the  Abruzzi  from  the  French, 

VOL.  I. — NEW  SERIES.  H  H 


432  The  Life  of  a  Conspirator, 

and  who  banded  themselves  together  for  pohtical  purposes?. 
The  term  vendita  (sale),  originally  referring  to  the  occasions 
when  they  sold  their  charcoal,  was  applied  to  the  various 
groups  into  which  the  association  was  divided,  and  became 
their  permanent  appellation  throughout  Italy.  About  1830, 
says  Signor  Ruffini, 

"  Carbonarism  was  being  organised  throughout  Tuscany,  and 
Vendite  were  already  estabhshed  in  all  the  principal  towns ;  but  a 
special  order  from  the  original  Vendita  at  Bologna,  confined  the 
work  to  Tuscany  alone,  with  an  express  prohibition  against  going 
beyond.  This  was  indispensable,  said  they,  for  securing  secrecy 
and  unity.  Each  province  had  its  centre  of  action  limited  to  the 
province  itself,  and  without  any  contact  with  those  of  the  other 
provinces  of  the  Peninsula.  The  supreme  Vendita  alone,  stationed 
in  Paris,  held  in  its  grasp  all  the  threads  of  these  different  centres, 
and  could  at  any  chosen  moment  put  them  in  communication  with 
each  otlier.  Our  Tuscan  friends  could,  therefore,  do  nothing  for 
us,  but  send  the  name  and  address  of  one  of  the  chief  members  of 
the  Vendita  at  Bologna.  The  two  young  delegates  had  no  directions 
for  the  Good  Cousins  (another  appellation  for  Carbonari)  in  Genoa ; 
but  they  were  sure,  they  said,  that  the  work  was  progressing  here 
as  elsewhere  ;  for  the  sect  was  every  where. 

"  Carbonarism  was  an  immense  net  that  enveloped  all  Europe. 
A  sign  from  the  supreme  Vendita  in  Paris  could  set  the  whole 
Continent  on  fire.  The  kingdom  of  Naples  alone  counted  forty 
thousand  aflRliated  members.  The  initiated  of  the  mysterious  as- 
sociation were  to  be  found  on  the  steps  of  the  throne,  and  in  the 
most  humble  cottage.  The  judge  upon  his  judgment-seat,  and  the 
accused  in  the  dock,  by  means  of  an  imperceptible  sign,  recognised 
each  other  as  brothers.  A  man  who  had  been  condemned  to  death 
(his  name  and  the  country  where  the  thing  had  happened  were 
quoted),  and  who  was  to  have  been  executed  the  next  day,  had  I 
his  fetters  loosened,  and  been  furnished  with  the  means  of  escai 
during  the  night.  By  a  word  which  the  prisoner  had  dropped, 
of  the  guards  charged  with  the  watch  had  discovered  him  to  h 
brother  Carbonaro,  and  aided  in  his  escape." 


lert 

1 


The  history  of  Ruffini's  initiation  is  not  without  that  mix 
ture  of  solemn  farce  which  almost  always  attends  such  affairs 
but  the  serious  element  sufliciently  predominated  to  shov 
what  a  frightful  engine  is  wielded  by  those  who  hold  the  rein 
in  such  associations.  On  the  night  of  Shrove-Tuesday,  th 
embryo  Carbonaro  was  enjoying  himself  at  a  masked  ball  ii 
the  Ridotto  of  the  Carlo  Felice  theatre  at  Genoa,  when,  jus 
after  midnight,  he  observed  that  from  time  to  time  a  m 
would  scream  out  his  name,  or  shake  her  finger  threatenin, 
at  him.     By  and  by  two  black-masked  dominos  stopped  at 


The  Life  of  a  Conspirator.  433 

threshold  of  tlie  room  to  which  Ruffini  had  withdrawn  himself, 
then  looked  around,  and  darted  towards  him. 

"  Tlie  taller  of  the  two  called  me  by  my  name.  '  What  are  you 
doing  all  alone  V  '  Looking  at  fools,  as  you  see/  '  Expecting 
some  one  V  chimed  in  the  short  domino,  evidently  a  man,  but  ac- 
coutred as  a  woman.  'Exactly  so;  expecting  somebody.'  'A 
lady,  I'll  lay  any  wager?'  continued  the  short  one.  'A  black 
whiskered  one,  at  all  events,'  said  I.  *  A  beautiful  fair  one  ;  I  know 
her,'  added  the  tall  domino.  'If  so,  you  know  more  than  I  do.* 
'  I  know  her  name,  and  will  whisper  it  to  you.'  The  tall  domino 
stooped,  and  let  fall  into  my  ear  these  words  :  '  The  hour  has  struck!' 
I  started  as  with  an  electric  shock,  and  said,  rising,  '  At  last !  I  am 
ready.'  'Then  follow  us!'  They  led  the  way  through  the  thronged 
rooms,  down  the  stairs  and  into  the  street.  I  followed  closely  at 
their  heels  j  and  so  entered  an  obscure  neighbouring  alley,  where 
my  leaders  stopped.  '  I  beg  your  pardon,'  said  the  taller  of  them, 
'but  it  is  indispensable  that  we  should  bind  your  eyes.'  I  nodded 
acquiescence,  and  a  handkerchief  was  tied  round  my  head.  It  was 
cold,  wet,  and  dark,  and  we  were  all  wrapped  in  our  cloaks.  As 
directed,  I  turned  the  collar  of  mine  up  round  my  face.  My  com- 
panions took  me  each  by  one  arm  ;  and  so  we  proceeded  in  perfect 
silence,  sometimes  to  the  right,  sometimes  to  the  left,  and  sometimes, 
as  it  appeared  to  me,  turning  back  again.  Two  persons,  as  far  as 
I  could  judge  by  the  sound  of  steps,  followed  near.  At  length  we 
stopped.  I  had  not  the  slightest  idea  where  we  were.  I  heard  a 
key  turn  in  a  lock  ;  in  we  went,  and  up  two  flights  of  stairs.  A 
door  was  pushed  open,  a  passage  traversed,  and  we  had  reached 
our  destination. 

"  My  eyes  were  now  unbound,  and  I  found  myself  in  a  vast 
chamber,  rather  ricldy  than  elegantly  furnished.  A  huge  fire  burned 
in  an  enormous  chimney,  and  a  heavy  lamp  with  an  alabaster  globe 
shed  a  mild  soft  light  around.  There  was  a  thick  dark-red  carpet 
upon  the  floor ;  a  wide  drapery,  in  flowered  damask  of  the  same 
colour,  hung  in  rich  folds  at  the  upper  end  of  the  room,  and  pro- 
bably concealed  an  alcove.  We  were  five  persons  in  the  room  ;  the 
two  who  had  been  my  escorts,  two  others,  equally  shrouded  in  black 
dominos — apparently  those  who  had  followed  us,  and  myself.  The 
tall  black  domino,  who  appeared  to  be  the  chief,  and  whom  I  shall 
henceforth  call  the  president,  placed  himself  in  an  arm-chair;  the 
two  last-comers  seated  themselves  upon  chairs  on  his  right  and  left, 
and  the  domino  dressed  as  a  woman  behind  him.  The  president 
then  motioned  to  me  to  advance,  which  I  did  ;  and  there  I  stood 
facing  the  four  men,  and  in  front  of  the  alcove.  After  a  short  pause, 
a  kind  of  examination  began.  It  was  the  tall  domino  who  spoke, 
and  he  always  addressed  me  in  the  second  person  singular  :  '  What 
was  my  name,  christian  name,  and  age?'  I  told  them.  'Did  I 
guess  the  purpose  of  my  presence  there  ?'  I  believed  I  did.  *  Did 
I  persist  in  the  intention  of  entering  the  confraternity  of  the  Good 


434  The  Life  of  a  Conspirator, 

Cousins  ?'  I  did  with  all  my  heart.  *  Had  I  formed  a  clear  idea 
of  the  terrible  duties  that  I  took  upon  myself?  Did  I  know  that, 
as  soon  as  I  should  have  taken  the  solemn  oath,  my  arm,  my  facul- 
ties, my  life,  my  whole  being,  would  no  longer  belong  to  myself, 
but  to  the  order  ?  Was  I  ready  to  die  a  thousand  times  rather  than 
reveal  the  secrets  of  the  order  ?  Was  I  ready  blindly  to  obey,  and 
to  abdicate  ray  will  before  the  will  of  my  superiors  in  the  order?* 
Of  course  I  was.  If  I  had  been  told  to  open  the  window  and  throw 
myself  out  of  it  head  foremost,  I  should  not  have  hesitated.  *  What 
claim  had  1  to  enter  into  the  brotherhood  of  free  men  V  I  had  none 
save  my  love  for  my  country,  and  my  unalterable  determination  to 
contribute  to  its  liberation,  or  to  die  in  the  attempt.  As  words  to 
this  effect  gushed  forth  hot  as  lava  from  my  inner  soul,  I  saw,  or 
thought  I  saw,  the  curtains  of  the  alcove  gently  move.  Was  it  an 
illusion,  or  was  there  some  one  hidden  behind?  I  did  not  dwell 
upon  the  circumstance  ;  for  what  signified  a  mystery  more  or  less  in 
this  great  mystery  ? 

*'  The  examination  having  been  brouglit  to  a  close,  the  president 
made  me  kneel  down  and  repeat  the  form  of  oath,  which  he  pro- 
nounced in  a  loud  and  distinct  voice,  dwelling  with  emphasis  on  the 
phrases  most  pregnant  with  meaning.  This  done,  he  added,  *  Take 
a  chair  and  sit  down ;  you  may  do  so  now  that  you  are  one  of  us.* 
I  obeyed.  A  name  of  adoption  was  then  chosen  for  me,  and  some 
mysterious  words  and  signs,  by  which  I  could  make  myself  known 
to  my  brethren  of  the  order,  were  imparted  to  me  ;  but  with  an  ex- 
press injunction  not  to  use  them,  except  in  cases  of  necessity, 
*  I  must  now,'  added  the  president,  *  give  you  some  explanations  and 
directions.  You  now  belong  to  the  first  grade  of  the  order,  which, 
however,  is  only  a  stage  of  probation.  You  have  no  rights,  not 
even  that  of  presentation ;  you  have  only  duties  ;  but  these  will  be 
easy.  Keep  your  secret  religiously,  wait  patiently,  in  a  spirit  of 
faith  and  submission,  and  hold  yourself  ready  for  the  moment  of 
action.  In  due  time  you  will  know  the  Vendita  of  which  you  are 
to  form  part,  and  the  chief  from  whom  you  will  have  to  receive 
-direct  orders.  In  the  meanwhile,  if  there  are  any  orders  for  you, 
'they  will  be  transmitted  by  the  cousin  who  has  presented  you,  and 
whom  you  already  know.  The  order  to  which  you  belong  has  eyes 
rand  ears  every  where ;  and  from  this  moment,  wherever  you  may 
be,  whatever  you  may  do,  it  will  see  you.  Bear  this  in  mind, 
and  act  accordingly.     The  sitting  is  at  an  end.' 

"Here  the  president  rose,  and  through  the  beard  of  his  mask 
kissed  me  on  each  cheek,  and  on  the  mouth.  All  present  did  the 
same.  I  had  a  certain  sum  to  pay,  destined  to  the  poor  and  infirm 
among  the  brethren;  my  eyes  were  once  more  bound,  and  we  went 
•out.  The  way  back  was  shorter  than  it  had  been  in  going,  but 
quite  as  irregular.  '  We  will  separate  here,'  said  the  voice  of  the 
•tall  domino  as  we  stopped;  '  pursue  your  way  without  looking  bsck; 
this  is  the  first  act  of  obedience  that  I  require  of  you.'  So  saying, 
he  untied  the  handkerchief  which  covered  my  eyes.     Obedient  to 


Tlie  Life  of  a  Conspirator,  435 

his  order,  I  went  on  without  turning,  and  came  out  upon  the  Piazza 
of  the  Carlo  Felice  theatre.  The  street  whence  I  issued  was  that 
same  dark  alley  where,  two  hours  before,  I  had  joined  my  myste- 
rious companions,  and  where  they  had  blindfolded  me.  I  should 
have  liked  to  take  a  good  walk  ;  but  it  rained  hard,  so  I  went  home 
to  bed." 

The  movement  in  the  curtains  here  mentioned  was  not  an 
illusion :  it  was  the  work  of  a  certain  young  lady,  a  widow, 
the  sister  of  the  individual  who  played  the  part  of  president 
in  the  initiation,  and  who  was  himself  a  Genoese  nobleman. 
This  lady,  here  called  Lilla,  was  loitering  in  her  brother's 
rooms,  unknown  to  him  ;  and  not  wishing  to  be  seen,  when 
she  heard  the  approach  of  footsteps  she  had  hidden  herself  in 
the  alcove,  little  dreaming  what  a  ceremony  she  was  about  to 
witness.  Forthwith  she  takes  an  interest  in  the  fate  of  the 
young  Ruffini ;  makes  love  to  him,  or  something  equivalent 
thereto,  while  he  returns  her  passion  ;  though,  from  prudential 
causes,  the  attachment  is  kept  secret  from  the  friends  of  both 
parties.  Her  suspicions  and  caprices,  and  his  own  consequent 
jealousies  and  self-tormentings,  occupy  a  prominent  place  in 
the  subsequent  story.  In  the  end  the  attachment  comes  to 
nothing,  owing  to  the  premature  explosion  of  the  revolutionary 
plots,  and  the  flight  of  Ruffini  from  the  Sardinian  territory. 
The  imbroglio  is  further  augmented  by  a  vehement  love  which 
Ruffini,  quite  innocently  and  unconsciously,  awakes  in  the 
bosom  of  a  simple-hearted  servant-girl  in  his  parental  house- 
hold. The  whole  story  is  a  curious  illustration  of  Italian 
feelings  and  Italian  manners;  and,  we  suppose,  is  to  be  taken 
as  substantially,  and  perhaps  in  all  its  details,  a  true  narrative. 

A  part  of  the  discipline  to  which  the  younger  members  of 
the  secret  societies  are  subjected  seems  to  consist  in  practising 
obedience  in  feigned  moments  of  crisis  and  action.  One  such 
incident  is  told  by  Signer  Ruffini,  in  which  he  had  the  gratifi- 
cation of  learning  that  the  whole  affair  was  a  piece  of  dramatic 
tomfoolery  ;  and  that  it  was  merely  to  keep  the  neophytes  in 
good  training  that  such  melodramatic  scenes  were  contrived 
and  performed. 

*'  Fantasio  came  to  me  early  one  morning,  looking  bright  and  in 
high  spirits.  *  Did  I  not  tell  you  so,  you  faithless  man  ?  I  have 
an  order  for  you.'  At  the  word  *  order,'  I  pricked  up  my  ears  like 
a  war-horse,  left  long  at  rest,  at  sound  of  trumpet.  '  At  last !'  ex- 
claimed I,  drawing  a  long  breath  of  satisfaction  ;  '  and  what  is  the 
news  V  '  The  news  is,  that  you  must  have  the  goodness  to  betake 
yourself,  at  twelve  o'clock  to-night,  to  the  bridge  of  Carignano. 
We  are  all  convoked  there.'  *  God  bless  you !  are  we  really  ?' 
replied  I ;  '  and  to  what  purpose  V     *  I  cannot  tell,'  returned  Fan- 


436  The  Life  of  a  Conspirator. 

tasio  ;  '  all  I  know  is,  that  we  are  to  go  armed  ;  such  are  the  orders.' 
Armed  !  this  was  more  than  enough  to  fire  my  imagination.  '  Armed, 
did  you  say?  this  looks  like  a  rising,  Fantasio,  does  it  not?'  *  If 
it  does  not,  I  do  not  know  what  does,'  was  the  answer.  *  At  all 
events,  we  shall  see.  Do  you  and  Caesar  come,  and  call  for  me  at 
my  house  about  half-past  ten  o'clock  ; — good  bye !' 

"  No  doubt  the  decisive  moment  is  come  at  last.  If  it  were 
not  for  action,  of  what  use  would  arms  be  ?  All  my  enthusiasm 
rekindles.  How  I  reproach  myself  for  my  unreasonable  distrust — 
how  odiously  absurd  I  seem  to  myself!  I  will  shed  the  last  drop 
of  my  blood,  if  need  be,  to  make  amends.  Not  a  moment  to  be 
lost.  Quick !  Caesar  and  1  ransack  the  house ;  all  the  forgotten 
old  arms  we  can  find  pass  a  strict  examination  ;  we  make  a  selection, 
and  we  go  out  to  buy  ammmiition. — The  day  seemed  dreadfully  long. 
At  last  ten  o'clock  struck.  In  a  moment  we  were  armed  like  two 
highwaymen,  eacli  of  us  with  a  sword-stick,  two  pocket  and  two 
horse  pistols.  Thus  accoutred,  and  enveloped  to  the  chin  in  our 
cloaks,  we  sallied  forth  with  the  resolute  step  of  men  determined  to 
conquer  or  to  die. 

"  Fantasio  was  ready,  armed  to  the  teeth ;  and  we  set  out  arm  in 
arm.  From  the  Acquaverde,  where  Fantasio  lived,  to  the  bridge 
of  Carignano,  is  a  pretty  good  distance  ;  but  it  did  not  appear  long 
to  us,  so  earnestly  were  we  discussmg  impending  events.  We  laid 
down  our  plan  of  campaign,  and  solemnly  engaged,  whatever  might 
happen,  to  keep  together,  and  not  be  separated  in  the  affray.  The 
night  was  just  such  as  conspirators  could  wish,  dark  as  pitch,  and 
pretty  cold  for  the  season.  As  we  came  upon  the  bridge  of  Carig- 
nano some  notes  from  an  accordion  were  heard.  The  melancholy 
modulations  took  me  quite  by  surprise,  and  had  a  singularly  power- 
ful effect  upon  me.  A  chill  ran  through  me  from  head  to  foot. 
Fantasio  pressed  my  arm.  The  accordion  was  the  instrument 
adopted  by  the  Good  Cousins  to  transmit  signals  to  a  distance.  We 
made  towards  the  point  whence  the  sounds  proceeded,  and  found  a 
man  wrapped  in  a  cloak,  with  whom  we  exchanged  some  words  of 
recognition.  The  man  bade  us  follow  him.  We  took  to  the  left  ot 
the  church  of  Santa  Maria,  and  passing  through  a  little  lane  came 
to  a  solitary  open  square  space,  where  once  stood  the  palace  of 
Fieschi.  Here  we  were  told  to  stop,  and  had  to  wait  some  time. 
The  retired  and  secluded  spot  was  well  chosen  for  the  occasion. 
*  It  seems  that  we  are  the  first,'  whispered  I  to  Fantasio,  seeing  no 
one.  '  Look  to  the  left  of  the  square,'  answered  Fantasio,  '  and 
you  will  see  that  we  are  not  alone.'  And  in  truth,  by  dint  of  strain- 
ing my  eyes,  I  did  think  that  I  distinguished  on  the  spot  to  whidi 
he  pointed  some  human  forms.  *  This  square  is  very  small,'  ob- 
served 1  ;  *  and  if  the  convocation  is  general,  I  do  not  know  how  it  can 
hold  us  all.  Have  you  any  idea  of  the  number  of  Good  Cousins  in 
Genoa  V  *  Thousands  and  thousands,'  answered  Fantasio  ;  *  but  it 
is  probable  there  may  be  partial  convocations  at  several  points.* 

"  Our  guide,  who  had  vanished,  now  reappeared,  and  desired  08 


The  Life  of  a  Conspirator,  4^*? 

to  follow  him  onwards  ;  which  we  did.  A  movement  towards  the  left 
of  the  square  took  place  simultaneously  among  the  living  shadows 
scattered  about,  till,  at  the  word  'halt!'  from  our  guide,  all  stopped. 
There  were  four  small  distinct  groups,  including  ours,  standing  at 
short  distances  from  each  other — in  all  fifteen  persons.  I  counted 
them,  but  without  being  able  to  recognise  individuals  wrapped  in 
<;loaks,  and  in  the  shade  of  night.  A  short  pause.  Twelve  began  to 
strike  at  the  cimrch  of  Carignano,  close  by.  With  the  first  stroke, 
a  tall  figure,  hitherto  concealed  in  a  dark  corner,  rose  to  view,  like 
a  ghost  from  under  ground,  and  pronounced  in  a  hollow  voice  the 

following  words  :   *  Pray  for  the  soul  of of  Cadiz,  sentenced  to 

death  by  the  high  Vendita,  for  perjury  and  treason  to  the  order. 
Before  the  twelfth  stroke  has  died  away,  he  will  have  ceased  to 
live.'  The  clock  tolled  slowly  on.  The  echo  of  the  last  chime  was 
:still  vibrating,  when  the  voice  added,  *  Disperse!'  and  each  group 
imoved  off. 

"  What  effect  this  scene — well  got  up  certainly,  only  too  well — 
may  have  had  upon  the  rest  of  the  spectators,  I  never  had  an  op- 
portunity of  knowing  ;  but  the  too  evident  melodramatic  arrange- 
ment of  the  whole  thing  was  an  entire  failure  as  regarded  us  three. 
It  might  perhaps  have  been  otherwise,  had  our  minds  been  less 
worked  up  beforehand.  As  it  was,  we  saw  at  a  glance,  instinctively, 
that  all  this  bloody  tale  was,  thank  God,  a  mere  fiction,  and  that,  if 
our  cousin  of  Cadiz  had  no  worse  mishap  than  the  one  alluded  to 
by  the  sepulchral  voice,  he  might  live  to  a  good  old  age.  So  the 
stirring  emotions  of  this  endless  day,  this  mystery,  this  arming,  had 
all  been  for  the  mere  purpose  of  figuring  in  a  miserable  stage-trick, 
in  bad  taste,  and  of  listening  to  a  goblin  story  scarce  fit  to  frighten 
children.     It  was  too  bad." 

After  a  few  months*  experience,  our  hero  found  that  mys- 
tical initiations  and  midnight  melodramas  were  very  far  from 
constituting  the  staple  of  a  conspirator's  life.  Signor  Ruflini 
himself  appears  to  have  been  by  no  means  one  of  the  worst 
class  of  revolutionists,  and  his  folly  must  have  been  fully  equal 
to  his  villany.  He  was  evidently  the  tool  of  men  more  crafty, 
more  unscrupulous,  and  more  bloodthirsty  than  himself.  He 
gives  us  the  benefit  of  his  acquaintanceship  with  this  kind  of 
life,  so  full  of  romantic  attraction  for  persons  of  small  brains 
and  still  less  principle. 

"  Verily,  I  assure  you,  the  path  of  a  conspirator  is  not  strewn 
with  roses,  least  of  all  of  conspirators  situated  as  we  were,  viz. 
known  by  and  accessible  to  every  body.  I  know  of  no  existence 
which  requires  such  continual  self-abnegation  and  endurance.  A 
conspirator  has  to  listen  to  all  sorts  of  gossip,  to  soothe  every 
variety  of  vanity,  discuss  nonsense  seriously,  feel  sick  and  stifling 
under  the  pressure  of  empty  talk,  idle  boasting,  and  vulgarity,  and 
yet  maintain  an  unmoved  and  complacent  countenance.     A  conspi- 


4:38  The  Life  of  a  Conspirator, 

rator  ceases  to  belong  to  himself,  and  becomes  the  toy  of  any  one 
he  may  meet ;  he  must  go  out  when  he  would  rather  stay  at  liome, 
and  stay  at  home  when  he  would  rather  go  out ;  he  has  to  talk  when 
he  would  be  silent,  and  to  hold  vigils  when  longing  to  be  in  bed. 
Verily,  I  say,  it  is  a  miserable  life.  It  lias,  it  is  true,  its  compen- 
sations, few  but  sweet ;  the  occasional  intercourse  with  lofty  minds 
and  devoted  souls  ;  the  glimpse  of  the  silver  lining  of  the  dark 
cloud,  and  the  conviction  that  all  this  wear  and  tear  is  smoothing 
the  way,  inch  by  inch,  towards  a  noble  and  holy  end. 

"  This  conviction  we  had,  and  it  kept  us  up  on  our  weary  way. 
In  six  months  of  incessant  labour,  we  had  obtained  results  at  which 
we  were  ourselves  astonished.  Not  a  single  town  of  any  importance 
in  the  kingdom  but  had  its  committee  at  work ;  not  a  considerable 
village  that  lacked  its  propagandist  leader.  We  had  succeeded  ia 
establishing  regular  and  sure  means  of  communication  between  the 
several  committees  in  the  interior,  and  we  corresponded  abroad, 
through  affiliated  travellers,  with  Tuscany  and  Rome,  through  Leg- 
horn and  Civita  Vecchia,  and  so  on  to  Naples.  The  number  of 
adepts  had  multiplied  to  such  an  extent,  that  we  soon  felt  the  neces- 
sity of  slackening  the  impulse.  People  of  all  classes  joined  us— 
nobles,  commoners,  lawyers,  men  employed  under  government, 
merchant-captains,  sailors,  artisans,  priests,  and  monks." 

As  is  well  known,  the  whole  of  these  preparations  proved 
abortive.  The  government  got  scent  of  what  was  about  to  be 
done,  perhaps  only  just  in  time.  At  any  rate,  the  conspira- 
tors were  not  ready,  and  the  bloody  hand  of  justice  proceeded 
to  claim  its  victims.  Among  others  was  Caesar,  the  autobio- 
grapher's  brother,  while  he  himself  had  the  narrowest  possible 
escape.  After  passing  many  perils,  including  an  almost  in- 
credible passage  of  the  river  Var,  he  found  himself  safe  on 
French  ground,  whence  he  ultimately  came  to  England,  where 
he  has  formed  one  of  that  band  of  exiles  whom  we  have  the 
happiness  of  cherishing  on  our  shores.  Would  that  we  could 
hope  that  the  days  were  come  when  the  crimes  of  such  men  as 
Ruffini  had  become  solely  matters  of  history.  What  must  not 
a  country  have  yet  to  go  through,  w-hich,  like  Italy,  is  over- 
spread with  such  a  curse  as  these  secret  associations,  con- 
demned by  the  laws  of  God,  and  reprobated  even  by  men  of 
the  world  not  wholly  dead  to  all  sense  of  honour  and  pru- 
dence ? 


439 


THE  HEBRAISMS  AND  CATHOLICISMS  OF  DISHAELI'S 
NOVELS. 

The  Young  Duke ;   Cordngshy ;  Sibyl ;  Tancred^  8^c.  Sfc.     By 
Disraeli.     New  editions.     David  Bryce,  London. 

It  is  a  common  saying,  tliat  a  man's  character  is  revealed  by 
his  writings ;  and  it  is  especially  true  in  those  cases  where 
the  writings  consist  mainly  of  portraitures  of  character.  And 
when  a  novelist  comes  to  be  a  Cabinet  Minister,  and  moreover 
aspires  to  influence  the  character  of  his  generation,  and  is, 
in  fact,  the  recognised  leader  of  a  great  party  in  Parliament, 
it  is  obvious  that  such  expressions  of  character,  and  such 
expositions  of  his  own  ideas  as  are  afforded  in  his  com- 
positions, must  have  no  ordinary  interest.  This  is  all  the 
more  so  in  the  case  of  Disraeli,  since  he  has  for  years  written 
with  a  purpose,  and  a  political  purpose.  His  avowed  object 
has  been  to  influence  the  mind  of  the  nation,  through  the 
medium  of  his  novels,  in  favour  of  the  ideas  he  has  espoused ; 
and  it  is  plain  that  this  has  been  with  a  view  to  assist  his  own 
political  career.  In  short,  he  has  enlisted  his  in;rgination  in 
the  service  of  his  ambition ;  and  under  cover  of  an  advocacy 
of  his  political  opinions,  he  has  sought  to  conciliate  public 
support  by  attracting  admiration  to  his  personal  character. 

Some  of  our  readers  may  be  surprised  to  learn  that  Dis- 
raeli's first  novel  appeared  above  a  quarter  of  a  centur}^  ago. 
It  was  in  \S2Q  that  Vivian  Grey  was  published;  that  is  to 
say,  its  first  part.  Its  author  could  not  have  been  much  more 
than  twenty.  There  is  nothing,  however,  very  remarkable 
in  it,  or  indeed  in  any  of  the  earlier  ones ;  although  they  all 
reveal  something  more  than  the  mere  novelist,  and  point  to- 
wards that  subjecting  of  his  imagination  to  his  ambition,  which, 
as  we  have  said,  is  so  plainly  to  be  recognised  in  all  his  later 
productions.  The  Young  Duke  (as  the  author  says  in  his 
advertisement  to  its  recent  republication)  was  written  "  when 
George  the  Fourth  was  king."  It  was  about  the  time  of  Ca- 
tholic Emancipation,  and  perhaps  it  was  from  this  circumstance 
that  Catholic  characters  are  brought  upon  the  scene.  It  is 
curious  to  observe  the  tone  in  which  they  are  spoken  of.  It  is 
far  from  unfavourable ;  and  might  almost  be  termed  friendly. 
The  heroine  is  a  Catholic,  and  a  most  lovely  and  loveable 
character. 

"  Her  creed  had  made  her  in  ancient  Christendom  feel  less  an 
alien ;    but   when  she  returned  to   that  mother-country  which  she 


440  The  Hebraisms  and  Catholicisms  of 

had  never  forgotten,  she  found  that  creed  her  degradation.  Her 
indignant  spirit  clung  with  renewed  ardour  to  the  crushed  altars  of 
her  faith ;  and  not  before  those  proud  shrines  where  cardinals 
officiate,  and  a  thousand  acolytes  fling  their  censers,  had  sl)e  bowed 
with  half  the  abandonment  of  spirit  with  which  she  invoked  the 
Virgin  in  her  oratory  at  home." 

Then  the  '^ great  Catholic  families"  are  described;  the 
modern  race  of  the  Howards  and  the  Cliffords,  the  Talbots,  the 
Arundels,  and  the  Jerninghams,  were  not  unworthy  of  their 
proud  progenitors. 

*'  The  heroine  observed  with  respect,"  we  are  told,  "  the  mild 
dignity,  the  noble  patience,  the  proud  humility,  the  calm  hope,  the 
uncompromising  courage  with  which  they  sustained  their  oppression, 
and  lived  as  proscribed  in  the  nation  they  had  created,'' 

In  all  his  subsequent  novels  Catholic  characters  appear,  and 
are  always  patronised  with  a  certain  amount  of  sympathy.  In 
Venetia  the  reconciliation  of  the  hero  and  heroine  is  effected 
through  the  intervention  of  a  monk,  who  is  represented  in  a 
Tery  pleasing  light.  In  Henrietta  Temple  the  hero  is  the  heii 
of  an  old  Catholic  family^,  to  whom  the  disinterested  devotior 
of  an  aged  priest  is  very  pathetically  described.  It  is  not 
-easy  to  conceive  a  more  beautiful  and  venerable  character. 

Up  to  this  time  there  does  not  appear  to  have  been  an} 
political  purpose  in  the  writings  of  Disraeli;  and  if  there  waj 
any  aim  at  an  ambitious  object,  it  was  only  in  the  remote  ant 
indirect  way  of  attaining  literary  celebrity.  His  next  nove 
was  still  more  purely  imaginative  than  any  of  the  preceding 
nevertheless  it  betrays  some  slight  admixture  of  a  politica 
element.  It  also  exhibits,  along  with  a  more  decided  tendency 
to  Catholicity,  a  slight  inclination  to  that  Hebraism  which  ii 
subsequent  works  was  so  strikingly  manifested.  Contarin 
Fleming  was  written  in  1831,  when  the  author  must  have 
about  six-and-twenty.  It  is  a  portraiture  of  a  poet  by  hims^ 
and  Disraeli  does  not  now  affect  to  conceal  that  he  depi 
his  own  character.  Contarmi  is  melancholy  and  miseral 
how  indeed  could  he  be  otherwise  ?  since,  by  his  own  accounf 
he  was  an  egotistical  dreamer.  In  this  state  of  mind  he  find 
himself,  after  a  long  and  solitary  walk,  in  a  Catholic  churcl 
The  high -altar  was  redolent  of  perfumes  and  adorned  wii 
flowers.     A  magical  light  was  thrown  upon  a  Magdalen. 

*'  I  gazed  upon  this  pictured  form  with  a  strange  fascinatior 
I  came  forward  and  placed  myself  near  the  altar.      At  that  niouiei_ 
the  organ  burst  forth  as  if  heaven  were  opening;  clouds  of  ince^ 
rose  and  wreathed  round  the  rich  and  vaulted  roof;   the  pritst 
vanced   and  revealed  a  God,  which  I  fell  down   and  worship] 
From  that  moment  I  became  a  Catholic." 


arh 

b^ 

nsfl 

abH 
oubT 


Disraeli's  Novels.  441 

There  was  a  mystery  in  the  creed  full  of  delight.  "  Adora- 
tion was  ever  a  resource  teeming  with  rapture ;  for  a  creed  is 
imagination,"  Here  was  ^  fatal  error.  He  mistook  the  ima- 
gination for  faith.  His  religion  was  dreamy ;  it  was  fancy. 
His  creative  power  was  exercised  in  the  production  of  celestial 
\isitants  ;  wherever  he  moved,  he  perceived  (that  is,  he  fancied 
he  perceived)  "  the  Hashing  of  white  wings,  the  streaming  of 
radiant  air."  But  one  mundane  desire  mingled  with  these 
celestial  aspirations.  He  languished  for  Italy.  It  was  a  strong 
longing.  Nothing,  he  says,  but  the  liveliness  of  his  faith  could 
have  solaced  and  supported  him  under  the  want  of  its  grati- 
fication. He  pined  for  the  land  where  true  religion  flourished 
in  becoming  glory,  the  land  where  he  should  behold  temples 
worthy  of  the  beautiful  mystery  celebrated  within  those  sump- 
tuous walls;  the  land  which  the  Vicar  of  God  and  the  Ruler 
of  kings  honoured  and  sanctified  by  his  everlasting  presence. 

By  and  by  Contarini  suddenly  loses,  like  Fivian  Grey, 
the  being  who  constituted  his  bliss.  The  catastrophe  is  so 
similar  that  it  seems  like  truth.  Both  novels  end  in  the  same 
tone.     A  friend  tells  him  : 

"  The  period  has  arrived  in  your  life  when  you  must  renounce 
meditation.  Action  is  now  your  part.  It  is  well  to  think,  until 
a  man  has  discovered  his  genius  and  developed  his  faculties  ;  but 
then  let  him  put  his  intelligence  into  motion.  Act;  act;  act;  act 
without  ceasing :  and  you  will  no  longer  talk  of  the  vanity  of 
life." 

The  author  appears  to  have  taken  the  advice  thus  given  to 
his  hero.  It  does  not  seem  altogether  a  casual  coincidence 
that,  in  one  of  the  subsequent  novels,  a  character  which  we 
suspect  more  than  any  other  to  be  that  of  Disraeli,  is  spoken 
of  as  having  travelled  five  years ;  which  is  the  interval  between 
the  appearance  of  Contarini  and  his  next  novel  Venetia. 

Coningshy  was  published  in  1844.  In  the  original  preface 
the  author  declared  his  object  to  be  to  scatter  suggestions  that 
might  tend  to  elevate  the  tone  of  public  life,  and  induce  men 
for  the  future  to  distinguish  more  carefully  between  facts  and 
phrases,  realities  and  phantoms.  In  his  preface  to  the  fifth 
edition,  in  1849,  he  says :  "  the  main  purpose  of  its  writer  was 
to  vindicate  the  just  claims  of  the  Tory  party  to  be  the  popular 
political  confederation  of  the  country ;  a  purpose  he  had  pur- 
sued from  a  very  early  period  of  his  life.  The  occasion  was 
favourable.  The  faithful  mind  of  England  had  just  recovered 
from  the  iniebriation  of  the  great  Conservative  triumph  of 
1841,  and  was  beginning  to  inquire  what,  after  all,  they  had 
conquered  to  preserve.  It  was  opportune,  therefore,  to  show 
that  Toryism  was  not  a  phrase,   but  a  fact;    and  that  our 


442  The  Hebraisms  and  Catholicisms  of 

political  institutions  were  the  embodiment  of  our  popular 
necessities."  There  was,  however,  another  object  the  author 
had  now  in  view.  It  is  in  this  novel  that  his  Hebraisms  appear. 
Our  readers  are  aware  —  the  name  itself  informs  them  —  that 
Disraeli  is  of  a  Hebrew  family :  any  one  who  has  ever  seen 
him  knows  how  strongly  his  face  betrays  the  Hebrew  descent. 
It  is  curious  to  see  how  he  explains  his  own  Hebraisms. 

"  In  considering  the  Tory  scheme,  the  author  recognised  in  the 
Church  the  most  powerful  agent  in  the  previous  development  ot 
England;  and  the  most  efficient  means  for  that  renovation  of  the 
national  spirit  at  which  he  aims.  The  Church  is  a  sacred  corporation 
for  the  promulgation  and  maintenance  in  Europe  oi  certain  Asian 
principles  (/),  which,  though  local  in  their  hirth,  are  of  divine  origirij 
and  of  universal  and  eternal  application.  In  asserting  the  paramouni 
character  of  the  ecclesiastical  polity,  and  the  majesty  of  the  tlieo- 
cratic  principle,  it  became  necessary  to  ascend  to  the  origin  of  the 
Christian  Church,  and  meet  tlie  position  of  the  descendants  of  that 
race  who  were  the  founders  of  Christianity." 

We  can  conceive  our  readers'  surprise  at  this  ver}'  Hebrew 
way  of  describing  Christianity  : — "  certain  Asian  principles.' 
Before  we  have  gone  much  further,  however,  their  surprist 
will  have  disappeared,  and  perhaps  another  feeling  will  hi 
substituted  for  it.  Let  our  author  proceed  to  explain  hL 
purpose. 

"  The  modern  Jews  have  long  laboured  under  the  odium  of  mi 
dieval  malevolence.  In  the  dark  ages  they  were  looked  upon  as  ar 
accursed  race, — the  especial  foes  of  Cliristianity.  No  one  pausec 
to  reflect  that  Christianity  was  founded  by  Jews.  The  Europeai 
nations  were  then  only  recently  converted  to  a  belief  in  Moses  am 
in  Christ,  and  thought  they  atoned  for  their  past  idolatry  by  wreak 
ing  their  vengeance  on  a  race  to  whom — and  to  whom  alone — thej 
were  indebted  for  the  race  which  had  founded  Christianity.  Ii 
vindicating  the  sovereign  right  of  the  Church  to  be  the  perpetua 
regenerator  of  man^  the  writer  tiiought  the  time  had  arrived  whej 
some  attempt  should  be  made  to  do  justice  to  the  race  which  hac 
founded  Christianity." 

In  order  to  carry  out  his  object,  Disraeli  introduces  ; 
striking  character  on  the  scene,  Sidonia,  a  Spanish  Jew ;  am 
it  is  to  this  character  we  particularly  call  attention,  because 
however  others  may  exhibit  the  author's  ideal — or  his  affectec 
ideal, — it  is  Sidonia  which  exhibits  himself.  We  say  so  fo 
this  reason  principally,  that  in  describing  Sidonia — of  cour^ 
speaking  in  his  own  person  as  the  author — he  exhibit 
perfect  sympathy  with  his  Hebrew  hero ;  for,  after  all, 
Coningsby  is  meant  for  the  reader  s  hero,  Sidonia  is  evideu 
the  author's. 


I 


Disraelis  Novels,  443 

Speaking  in  his  own  person,  Disraeli  says  : 

•*  Sidonia  was  descended  from  a  very  ancient  and  noble  family 
jf  Arragon,  that  in  the  course  of  ages  had  given  to  the  state  many 
listinguished  citizens.  In  the  priesthood  its  members  had  been 
)eculiarly  eminent.  Besides  several  prelates,  they  counted  among 
heir  number  an  Archbishop  of  Toledo  ;  and  a  Sidonia  had  exercised, 
or  a  series  of  years,  the  paramount  office  of  Grand  Inquisitor. 
I'et,  strange  as  it  may  sound,  this  illustrious  family,  during  all  that 
)eriod,  in  common  with  two- thirds  of  the  Arragonese  nobility, 
ecretly  adhered  to  the  ancient  faith  and  ceremonies  of  their  fathers, 
he  rites  and  observances  of  the  law  of  Moses." 

Che  soul  shudders  and  sickens  at  the  horrible  profanations 
nd  sacrilege  which  must  have  been  perpetrated  by  these  dia- 
)olical  dissemblers  during  these  centuries  of  sordid  hypocrisy 
nd  infernal  malignancy  !  Yet  this  atrocity  Disraeli  delibe- 
ately  defends. 

"  The  Council  of  Toledo,  during  the  sixth  and  seventh  centuries, 
ttempted,  by  a  series  of  decrees  worthy  of  the  barbarians  who  pro- 

fiulgated  them,  to  root  the  Jewish  Arabs  out  of  the  land.  There  is 
o  doubt  this  led,  as  much  as  the  lust  of  Roderick,  to  the  invasion 

if  Spain  by  the  Moslem  Arabs.  The  Jews,  suffering  under  persecu- 
ion,  looked  to  their  sympathising  brethren  of  the  Crescent ;  and  the 
verthrow  of  the  Gothic  kingdoms  was  as  much  achieved  by  the 
uperior  information  which  the  Saracens  received  from  their  suffer- 
ig  kinsmen,  as  by  the  resistless  valour  of  the  desert." 

In  other  words,  these  malignant  miscreants,  enraged  at 
eing  prevented  from  perpetrating  their  awful  profanations  of 
he  sacred  mysteries  of  the  Christian  faith  for  the  sake  of  the 
leanest  and  most  mercenary  motives,  betrayed  the  country 
0  their  brother  infidels,  the  Mahometans;  and  for  centuries 
rushed  it  under  their  obscene  yoke.  It  is  plain  that  the 
ympathies  of  Disraeli  are  with  these  wretches,  not  with  their 
'ious  and  chivalrous  victims.  Hear  how  he  speaks  of  the  en- 
eavours  made  by  Ferdinand  and  Isabella  to  rid  their  fair 
ealms  of  this  foul  oppression  : 

"  Where  the  Jewish  population  were  scanty,  they  were  obliged 
3  conform,  under  the  title  of '  nuevos  Christianos.'  At  length,  the 
nion  of  the  two  crowns  under  Ferdinand  and  Isabella  brought  the 
risis  of  tiieir  fate  both  to  these  new  Christians  and  the  non-con- 
3rming  Hebrews.  The  Inquisition  appeared,  which  was  esta- 
lished  against  the  protest  of  the  Cortes.  [The  reason  for  this 
)israeli  himself  had  already  unconsciously  furnished  ;  and  in  the 
ext  sentence  he  alludes  to  it  again.]  The  first  individuals  sum- 
loned  before  them  were  the  Duke  de  Medina  Sidonia  [whose  name 
idicates  an  Eastern  origin]  and  others  of  the  most  considerable  per- 
onages  in  Spain." 


444  The  Hebraisms  and  Catholicisms  of 

How  should  it  be  otherwise,  when  he  had  already  informed 
his  readers  that  tivo-thirds  of  the  Arragonese  nobility  were 
secret  Jews,  whilst  professing  and  openly  practising  the  Ca- 
tholic religion  !     And  yet  Disraeli   is  quite  incensed  at  the 
idea  of  a  Catholic  sovereign  attempting  to  root  out  so  exe- 
crable a  system  !     How  could  this  be  done  but  by  means  oi 
an  Inquisition  ?     Is  it  too  much  to  say  that  for  such  a  disease 
no  remedy  could  be  effectual  which  was  not  sharp  ?     *'  Those 
who  were  convicted  of  secret  Judaism  were  dragged  to  the 
stake."     "  Having  purged  the  new  Christians,  the  Ii^quisitoit 
turned  their  attention  to  tlie  old  Hebrews.     Baptism  or  exile 
was  the  alternative."     We  rather  question  the  value  of  the 
alternative.      There  had  been  ample  experience  of  "  conform- 
ing Jews."    "  More  than  six  hundred  thousand*  would  not  de 
sert  the  religion  of  their  fathers"  [rather,  they  could  not  longe 
conceal  \{].     "For  this  they  gave  up  the  delightful  land  ii 
which  they  had  lived  for  centuries"  [rather,  they  were  thrus 
out  with  disgust  and  execration].     "  Who,  after  this,  sliouh 
say  that  the  Jews  are  by  nature  a  sordid  people?"     This  i 
really  the  ne  plus  ultra  of  audacity  !     After  revealing  on  th 
part  of  the  people  an  hypocrisy  never  before  equalled,  th 
habitual  and  hereditary  assumption  of  a  faith  they  really  hate(' 
and  all  for  the  sake  of  sordid  pelf  and  mercenary  gain,  it  is 
stretch  of  impudence  perfectly  amazing  for  their  apologist  t 
presume  to  repel  the  imputation  of  a  sordid  character.    "  Th 
Sidonias  of  Arragon  were  nuevos  Chiistianos  ;"  i.e.  professe 
Catholicism  for  the  sake  of  gain  and  gold.     At  the  peace,  S; 
donia  came  to  England;  and  no  sooner  was  he  established  i 
England,   than  he   professed    Judaism,  which    "  Torquem 
flattered  himself  he  had  drained  out  of  the  family  three 
turies  ago.     He  sent  over  also  for  several  of  his  brothers, 
were  good  Catholics  in   Spain,  but  who  made  an  offering  i 
the  synagogue  in  gratitude  for  their  safe  voyage  on  their  arr 
val  in  England."     And  "  who  after  this  shall  say  the  Jews  ai 
by   nature  a   sordid   people ?"     Who  shall  say  they  are  mi 
Where  and  when  was  simulation  more  systematic,   more  so 
did,  more  shameless!      And  Disraeli,  speaking  in  his  own  pc 
son,  his  own  sentiments,  his  own  spirit,  scruples  not  to  exprc 
his  sympathy  with  these  sordid  dissemblers,  these  hereditai 
hypocrites,  this  wretched  race  of  mercenary  impostors! 

This  most  strange  and  striking  revelation  of  his  hidden  mil 
raises  sad  suspicions  as  to  the  sincerity  of  his  own  professic 
of  Christian  faith.  He  who  can  sympathise  with  such  ex 
crable  assumption  of  that  faith  as  he  has  thus  described, 
so  much  obvious  exultation,  and  so  ill-concealed  a  sense  of 
♦  Really,  about  160,000.     See  No.  58  of  the  Clifton  Tracts,  p.  25 


i 


Disraelis  Novels,  445 

umph  at  the  deception  for  centuries  practised,  and  of  scorn  for 
the  deceived; — is  it  uncharitable  to  suspect,  or  to  conceive,  that 
we  might  possibly  find  in  its  defender  an  imitator  as  well  as 
an  admirer  ?  And  if  we  see  throughout  his  works,  together 
with  a  deep  sense  of  religion,  an  unmistakeable  reverence  for 
Judaism,  and  an  undisguised  contempt  for  all  forms  of  Christie 
anity,  save  so  far  as  its  Catholic  form  seems  to  harmonise  with 
Judaism,  or  may  be  deemed  to  be  its  development, — this  sus- 
picion is  strengthened  into  an  inference  of  painful  force.  If 
it  be  sound,  Sidonia,  not  Coningsby,  is  the  true  portraiture  of 
Disraeli.  The  one  is  the  author  as  he  is,  the  other  as  he 
seems ;  the  one  embodies  what  he  feels,  the  other  what  he 
assumes.  And,  in  truth,  there  are  many  involuntary  indications 
of  this :  Sidonia  influences  Coningsby,  who  represents  that 
new  generation  of  English  youth  whom  Disraeli  seeks  to  in- 
fluence. Sidonia  cares  for  nothing  but  intellect ;  he  is  im- 
pervious to  feeling ;  his  mind  is  wrapt  in  impenetrable  mys- 
tery ;  he  is  devoid  of  sympathy.  Though  unreserved  in  his 
manners,  his  frankness  was  limited  to  the  surface.  He  observed 
every  thing,  thought  ever,  but  avoided  serious  discussion. 
Though  affable,  it  was  impossible  to  penetrate  him.  Obser- 
vers of  Disraeli  will  recognise  resemblances  here ;  all  is  pic- 
tured in  that  cold  impassive  countenance,  and  the  dark  depths 
of  that  unfathomable  eye. 

However,  we  must  not  forget  the  reader's  hero  Conhigshy, 
He  is  pictured  as  possessed  of  the  "  heart  of  one  who,  notwith- 
standing all  his  high  resolves  and  daring  thoughts,  was  blessed 
with  that  tenderness  of  soul  which  is  sometimes  linked  with 
an  ardent  imagination  and  a  strong  will;"  and  as  yearning  for 
"  the  companionship  of  an  equal  or  superior  mind."  His 
heart  and  his  intellect  seemed  to  need  a  companion.  Books, 
action,  and  deep  thought  might  in  time  supply  the  want  of 
that  intellectual  guide;  but  lor  the  heart,  where  can  he  flnd 
solace  ?  Disraeli  finds  him  a  companion  in  the  person  of 
Sidonia;  who,  let  us  recollect,  is  a  man  **  without  affections, 
and  caring  only  for  intellect."  Such  a  man  must  have  had  a 
secret  contempt  for  Coningsby,  who  is  somewhat  a  dreamer. 
And  so  we  suspect  Disraeli  has  a  secret  contempt  for  his 
Anglican  associates — for  "  Young  England,"  as  they  were 
called  a  few  years  ago — such  men  as  Lord  John  Manners; 
who,  by  the  by,  answers  to  the  description  of  Coningsby,  as 
Disraeli  does  to  that  of  Sidonia. 

Sidonia  is  a  philosopher,  and  the  instructor  of  Coningsby  ; 
and  he  at  least  is  sincere  enough  in  contempt  for  the  Church 
of  England.  Scorn  and  sarcasm  are  quite  congenial  to  him  ; 
and  the  Establishment  affords  him  a  fine  subject  for  their  ex- 


446  The  HehrtLisms  and  Catholicisms  of 

pression.  Of  course,  it  is  only  at  the  existing  order  of  things 
that  he  sneers  ;  Young  England  would  not  like  their  Church 
itself  to  be  scoffed  at.  But  an  intellectual  Hebrew  like  Sido- 
nia  must  needs  have  a  supreme  contempt  for  the  whole  sys- 
tem. And  at  the  same  time  it  is  equally  obvious  that  he 
would  have  a  kind  of  aesthetic  sympathy  for  Catholicity.  A 
friend  of  ours,  once  conversing  with  a  Jew,  asked  him  what  he 
thought  of  Catholics,  and  received  for  answer  that  *'  they  were 
nearest  the  truth."  This  must  be  the  feeling  of  every  Hebrew; 
who  acknowledges  in  Catholicity,  at  all  events,  the  only  form  of 
Christianity  he  could  ever  receive,  supposing  him  to  submit  to 
any. 

Coningsby  reappears  in  the  next  novel,  but  is  a  nonentity. 
It  is  only  a  nominal  resemblance.  His  character  is  continued 
in  Tancredf  who,  like  Coningsby,  talks  strong  Young  Eng- 
landism : 

"  I  cannot  find  it  a  part  of  my  duty  to  maintain  the  order  of  things 
(for  I  will  not  call  it  system)  which  at  present  prevails  in  our  country. 
It  seems  to  me  that  it  cannot  last,  as  nothing  can  endure,  or  ought  to 
endure,  that  is  not  founded  upon  principle,  and  its  principle  I  have 
not  discovered.  In  nothing,  whether  it  be  religion  or  government, 
sacred,  political,  or  social  life,  do  I  ?iv\dL  faith ;  and  if  there  be  no 
faith,  how  can  there  be  duly  ?  Is  there  such  a  thing  as  religious 
truth?  Is  there  such  a  thing  as  political  right?  Are  these /ac/*, 
or  mere  phrases  ?  And  if  facts,  where  are  they  to  be  found  in  Eng- 
land ?     Is  truth  in  our  Church  ?" 

The  reader  will  wonder  when  he  hears  how  he  proposes  to 
find  out  truth.  He  soon  talks  Hebraisms  stronger  than  his 
Anglicanisms.     He  electrifies  his  noble  father  by  saying : 

"  It  is  the  Holy  Land  that  occupies  my  thoughts  ;  and  I  propose 
to  make  a  pilgrimage  to  the  Sepulchre  of  my  Saviour  !"  "  Yes  : 
the  Holy  Sepulchre  !  When  I  remember  that  the  Creator,  since 
light  sprung  out  of  darkness,  has  deigned  to  reveal  Himself  to  His 
creatures  only  in  one  land  ;  that  in  that  land  He  assumed  a  manly 
form,  and  met  a  human  death,  I  feel  persuaded  that  the  country 
sanctified  by  such  intercourse  and  such  events  must  be  endowed 
with  marvellous  qualities.  It  is  these  qualities  which  drew  Europe 
to  Asia  during  the  middle  ages.  Our  castle  has  before  this  sent  a 
De  Montacute  to  Palestine.  For  three  days  and  three  nights  he 
kneh  at  the  shrine  of  our  Redeemer.  Six  centuries  have  ehipsed 
since  that  great  enterprise.  It  is  time  to  restore  and  renovate  our 
communications  with  the  Most  High.  I  too  would  kneel  at  that 
tomb.  I,  surrounded  by  the  holy  hills  and  sacred  groves  of  Jeru- 
salem, would  lift  up  my  voice  to  Heaven,  and  ask  what  is  dutj 
what  is  faith?   what  ought  I  to  do  ?  what  ought  I  to  believe?'* 

This  of  course  staggers  the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Bell^ 


Disraelis  Novels.  447 

mont,  who  are  quiet  Church-of-England  people ;  indeed  the 
Duchess  is  an  EvangeHcah  In  despair,  she  gets  a  bishop  to 
reason  with  her  son.  In  describing  this  prelate  Disraeli  exerts 
all  his  powers  of  sarcasm ;  and  it  is  Dr.  Blomfield  who  stands 
portrayed.  It  is  amusing  to  see  the  author  at  once  grati- 
fying his  Hebrew  contempt  for  a  Protestant  high-priest  and 
slaking  the  revenge  of  his  Anglican  associates. 

"About  the  time  of  the  marriage  of  the  Duchess  of  Bellamont, 
her  noble  family  and  a  few  of  their  friends  (some  of  whom  also  be- 
lieved in  the  millennium)  were  persuaded  that  the  conversion  of  the 
Roman  Catholics  to  the  true  faith  (which  was  their  own)  had  ar- 
rived. They  had  subscribed  very  liberally  for  the  purpose,  and 
formed  several  sub-committees.  As  long  as  their  funds  lasted,  their 
missionaries  found  proselytes.  It  was  the  last  desperate  effort  of  a 
Church  that  had  from  the  first  betrayed  her  trust.  Twenty  years 
ago,  the  people  of  England  being  in  the  full  efflorescence  of  their 
ignorance,  which  permitted  them  to  believe  themselves  the  most 
enlightened  nation  in  the  world,  it  was  an  established  doctrine  that 
what  was  wanted  for  Ireland  was  more  Protestantism  ;  and  it  was 
supposed  to  be  not  more  difficult  to  supply  the  Irish  with  Protes- 
tantism than  it  had  proved,  in  the  instance  of  a  famine,  to  supply 
them  with  potatoes.  What  was  principally  wanted  in  both  cases 
was  subscriptions. 

''  When  the  English  public,  therefore,  were  assured  by  their  co- 
religionists on  the  other  side  of  the  Channel  that  at  last  the  good 
work  was  doing,  that  the  flame  spread  rapidly,  that  not  only 
parishes  but  provinces  were  agog,  and  that  town  and  country  were 
in  a  heat  of  proselytism,  they  began  to  believe  that  at  last  the 
scarlet  lady  was  about  to  be  dethroned ;  they  loosened  their  purse- 
strings  ;  fathers  of  families  contributed  their  zealous  five  pounds, 
followed  by  every  member  of  the  household  to  the  babe  in  arms- 
who  subscribed  its  fanatical  five  shillings.  The  journals  teemed 
with  lists  of  proselytes  and  cases  of  conversion ;  and  even  orderly 
orthodox  people,  who  were  firm  in  their  own  faith,  but  wished  others 
to  be  permitted  to  pursue  their  course  in  peace,  began  to  congratu- 
late each  odier  on  the  prospects  of  our  at  last  becoming  a  united 
Protestant  people." 

Dr.  M'Hale  himself  could  scarcely  exhibit  in  more  odious 
or  more  powerful  colours  Protestant  proselytism.  Then  here 
is  a  slight  but  faithful  sketch  of  the  Anglican  Episcopate  : 

"  The  Church  of  England,  mainly  from  its  deficiency  of  oriental 
Imowledge  [we  imagine  our  readers  will  probably  accept  the  fact 
without  this  queer  reason,  or  will  conceive  the  next  reason  rather 
better],  and  from  a  misconception  of  the  priestly  character  (which 
has  been  a  consequence  of  that  want),  has  fallen  of  late  years  into 
great  straits.  About  five-and-twenty  years  ago  it  began  to  be  ob- 
served that  the  times  had  gone  by— at  least  in  England — for  bi- 

VOL.  I. NEW  SERIES.  I  I 


448  The  Hebraisms  and  Catholicisms  of 

shoprics  to  serve  as  appanages  for  the  younger  sons  of  great  families. 
But  the  Premier's  notions  of  clerical  capacity  did  not  soar  higher 
than  a  private  tutor  who  had  suckled  a  young  noble  into  university 
honours  ;  and  his  test  of  priestly  celebrity  was  the  decent  editorship 
of  a  Greek  play.  He  sought  for  the  successors  of  the  Apostles 
among  third-rate  hunters  after  syllables. 

"  These  men,  with  one  e^^ception,  subsided  into  their  native  in- 
significance ;  and  during  our  agitated  age,  when  alike  in  senate  and 
market-place  the  doctrine  and  discipline  of  the  Church  have  been 
impugned,  its  power  assailed,  its  authority  denied,  not  a  voice  has 
been  raised  by  these  mitred  nullilies  to  warn  or  to  vindicate ;  not  a 
phrase  has  escaped  their  lips  or  their  pens  which  has  ever  in- 
fluenced public  opinion,  touched  the  heart  of  the  nation,  or  guided 
the  conscience  of  a  perplexed  people.  If  they  were  ever  heard  of, 
it  was  when  they  were  pelted  in  a  riot." 

No  one  who  recals  the  events  of  the  last  few  years,  and 
recollects  how  Disraeli  put  himself  at  the  head  of  the  Young- 
England  party,  can  doubt  that  the  Anglicans  cordially  entered 
into  all  this.  We  can  personally  testify  that  it  is  not  in  the 
least  stronger  than  the  sort  of  language  the  Anglican  clergy 
commonly  held  of  their  bishops  a  few  years  ago. 

But  all  this  forms  only  the  background  for  the  bishop's 
portrait,  v^^hich  is  thus  powerfully  drawn  : 

*'  In  the  blaze  and  thick  of  the  affair, — Irish  Protestants  jubilant, 
Irish  Papists  denouncing  the  whole  movement  as  fraud  and  trum- 
pery, John  Bull  perplexed,  but  excited  and  still  subscribing, — a 
young  bishop  rose  in  his  place  in  the  House  of  Lords,  and,  with  a 
vehemence  there  unusual,  declared  that  he  saw  the  finger  of  God  in 
this  second  reformation  ;  and  puisuing  the  prophetic  vein  and  man- 
ner, denounced  woe  to  those  who  should  presume  to  lift  up  thei 
hands  and  voices  in  vain  and  impotent  attempts  to  stem  the  flood 
light  that  was  bursting  over  Ireland.     In  him  who  thus  plainly  dis 
cerned  the  finger  of  God,  the  young  duchess  recognised  the  man 
God  ;  and  the  right  rev.  prelate  became  her  infallible  instructoi 
although  the  impending  second  reformation  did  chance  to  take  th 
untoward  form  of  the  emancipation  of  the  Roman  Catholics,  fol 
lowed,  in  due  season,  by  the  destruction  of  Protestant  bishopric! 
the  sequestration  of  Protestant  tithes,  and  the  endowment  of  May 
nooth.     The  ready  audacity  with  which  the  right  rev.  prelate  ha 
stood  sponsor  for  the  second  reformation  was  a  key  to  his  charactei 
Bustling,  energetic,  versatile,  stimulated  by  an  ambition  that  kne? 
no  repose,  and  an  inordinate  capacity  for  affairs,  he  could  permi 
nothing  to  be  done  without  his  interference,  and  consequently  waj 
perpetually  involved  in  transactions  which  were  eidier  failures  o 
blunders.     He  was  one  of  those  leaders  who  are  not  guides.     Hav 
ing  little  real  knowledge,  his  lordship,  when  he  received  those  fre 
quent  appeals  which  were  tiie  necessary  consequence  of  his  religioui 
life,   became  obscure,   confused,  contradictory,   inconsistent.     The 


DisraeWs  Novels,  449 

oracle  was  always  dark.  Placed  in  a  high  post  in  an  age  of  politi- 
cal analysis,  the  bustling  intermeddler  was  unable  to  supply  society 
with  a  single  solution.  Enunciating  second-hand  with  characteristic 
precipitation  some  big  principle  in  vogue  as  if  he  were  a  disco- 
verer, he  invariably  shrunk  from  its  subsequent  application  the  mo- 
ment that  he  found  it  might  be  unpopular  or  inconvenient.  All  his 
quandaries  terminated  in  the  same  catastrophe,  a  compromise.  Ab- 
stract principles  with  him  ever  ended  in  concrete  expediency. 

"Beginning  with  the  second  reformation,  which  was  a  little  rash 
but  dashing,  the  bishop  had,  in  the  course  of  his  episcopal  career, 
placed  himself  at  the  head  of  every  movement  in  the  Church  which 
others  had  originated ;  and  had  as  regularly  withdrawn  at  the  right 
moment,  when  the  heat  was  over  or  had  become  excessive.  Fu- 
riously evangelical,  soberly  high  and  dry,  and  fervently  Puseyite, 
each  phasis  of  his  faith  concludes  with  what  the  Spaniards  call  a 

*  transaction.'  The  saints  are  to  have  their  new  churches,  and  they 
are  also  to  have  their  rubrics  and  canons  ;  the  universities  may  sup- 
ply successors  to  the  Apostles,  but  they  are  also  presented  with  a 
church  commission  ;  the  Puseyites  may  have  candles  on  their  altars, 
but  they  must  not  be  lighted.  A  man  who  can  assume  with  cautious 
facility  the  prevailing  tone,  and  disembarrass  himself  of  it  with  a 
dexterous  ambiguity  the  moment  it  ceases  to  be  predominant, — -such 
a  man  is  of  an  essentially  narrow  mind ;  with  feeble  powers  of  thought, 
no  imagination,  contracted  sympathies,  and  a  most  loose  public  mo-' 
rality.  Such  a  man  is  the  individual  whom  kings  and  parliaments 
select  to  rule  the  Church." 

Such  is  the  man  with  whom  Tancred  converses.  The 
bishop,  we  find,  was  unable  to  indicate  the  principle  on  which 
the  present  order  of  things  in  England  was  founded;  "nei- 
ther fciith  nor  its  consequent  duty  was  at  all  illustrated  or 
invigorated"  by  his  views.  "  He  utterly  failed  in  reconciling 
a  belief  in  ecclesiastical  truth  with  the  support  of  religious 
dissent."  This  pregnant  sentence  is  worth  noting.  The 
state  can  scarcely  be  said  to  support  dissent  in  any  other  sense 
than  that  it  tolerates  it.  And  Disraeli  distinctly  indicates, 
therefore,  that  he  deems  a  belief  in  ecclesiastical  truth  incon- 
sistent with  the  tolerating  dissent;  and  yet  we  are  to  be  told 
that  intolerance  is  essentially  and  exclusively  Popish. 

But  we  proceed  with  Tancred's  conference  : 

"  '  It  cannot  be  denied,'  at  length  he  said, '  that  society  was  once 
regulated  by  God,  and  that  now  it  is  regulated  by  man.  For  ray 
part,  I  prefer  divine  to  self-government ;  and  I  wish  to  know  how  it 
is  to  be  attained.' 

" '  The  Church  represents  God  upon  earth,'  said  the   bishop. 

*  But  the  Church  no  longer  governs  man  ;'  replied  Tancred.  '  There 
is  a  great  spirit  rising  in  the  Church,'  said  the  bishop,  with  thought- 
ful solemnity  ;  '  we  shall  soon  see  a  bishop  at  Manchester.'     *  But  I 


450  The  Hebraisms  and  Catholicisms  of 

want  to  see  an  angel  at  Manchester.'  'An  angel!'  *  Why  not? 
why  should  there  not  be  heavenly  messengers,  when  heavenly  mes- 
sengers are  most  wanted  V  *  We  have  received  a  heavenly  mes- 
sage by  one  greater  than  the  angels,'  said  the  bishop  ;  'these  visits 
to  man  ceased  with  the  mightier  advent.'  'Then  why  did  angels 
appear  to  Mary  and  her  companions  at  the  holy  tomb?'  inquired 
Tancred." 

The  interview  was  unsatisfactory.  The  bishop  said  Tan- 
cred was  a  visionary.  His  mother,  the  duchess,  was  disap- 
pointed and  indignant.  "  A  visionary !"  she  angrily  ex- 
claimed ;  "  why,  so  are  the  Puseyites  !"  We  think  so  too;  and 
here  again  we  discern  the  shrewd  sense  of  the  author,  and  his 
keen  perceptions  of  the  ridiculous.  Eventually  Tancred  goes 
to  Jerusalem,  where  he  meets  with  a  Hebrew  lady,  who  thus4 
interrogates  him  as  to  his  religion  :  T 

"  *  Pray,  are  you  of  those  Franks  who  worship  a  Jewess ;  or  of  those 
who  revile  her,  break  her  images,  and  blaspheme  her  pictures?' 
*I  venerate,  though  I  do  not  adore  the  mother  of  God,'  exclaims  the 
hero ;  and  he  essays  to  convert  his  fair  acquaintance.  '  The  Chris- 
tian Church  would  be  your  guide,'  he  assures  her.  *  Which  ?'  is 
the  lady's  keen  reply  ;  '  there  are  so  many  in  Jerusalem.'  '  If  I  had 
no  confidence  in  any  Church,'  said  Tancred,  '  I  could  fall  down 
before  God,  and  beseech  Him  to  enlighten  me  ;  and  in  this  land  I 
cannot  believe  that  the  appeal  to  the  mercy-seat  would  be  in  vain.* 
*But  human  wit  ought  to  be  exhausted  before  we  presume  to  invoke 
divine  interposition,'  said  the  lady." 

An  observation,  the  soundness  of  which — in  another  sense 
than  his,  however — the  reader  will  recognise ;  he  will  feel  at 
once  that  it  w'ould  have  been  better  for  Tancred  to  have  gone 
to  Rome  than  to  Jerusalem.  Tancred  remains  long  at  the 
tomb.  He  does  not,  however,  catch  much  illimiination.  His 
ideas  are  the  same.  "  Christendom  cares  nothing  for  tha^ 
tomb  now ;  has  indeed  forgotten  its  own  name,  and  calls  it-j 
self  *  enlightened  Europe.'  But  enlightened  Europe  is  no^ 
happy.  Its  existence  is  a  fever,  which  it  calls  *  progress. 
Progress  to  ivhat  ?"  A  shrewd  question.  One  is  notsurprisec 
to  find  that  the  faithful  votary  during  his  vigils  at  the  sacre 
tomb  had  received  solace,  but  not  inspiration.  **  No  voice 
from  heaven  had  yet  sounded  ;  but  his  spirit  was  filled  witi 
the  sanctity  of  the  place." 

The  fact  is,  he  makes  a  fool  of  himself;  and  we  are  not 
sure  that  the  author  does  not  intend  to  make  a  fool  of  his  hero;| 
in  order  to  "  show-up"  the  folly  of  his  friends  the  Puseyites^ 
of  whose  "  visionary^'  character  he  is  clearly  sensible.  It  is 
impossible  that  it  could  be  otherwise.  Only  in  their  aesthetii 
sport  does  he  sincerely  sympathise  with  them.     He  palpabh 


Disraeli's  Novels,  45i 

detects  and  exposes  the  anomalies  of  their  theological  posi- 
tion. With  the  hero  made  a  fool  of,  and  left  in  Palestine 
until  his  mamma  the  duchess  came  to  fetch  him,  we  leave 
Tancred. 

Sibyl,  or  the  Two  Matrons,  written  in  1845,  has  somewhat 
the  same  spirit,  but  is  made  of  stronger  stuff.  It  has  no  He- 
braisms, but  more  decided  Catholicisms.  It  has,  however, 
the  alloy  of  a  palpable  political  purpose,  in  which  it  resembles 
Coningshij.  The  two  matrons  are  the  rich  and  the  poor ;  and 
the  author  does  not  conceal  his  conviction  that  their  fatal 
separation  into  hostile  classes  is  the  result  of  the  accursed 
schism  which  ruined  Catholicity  in  this  country.  In  these 
bitter  terms  does  he  convey  his  idea  of  the  atrocious  trans- 
actions of  that  time,  while  describing  the  Bedford  family,  so 
severely  castigated  b}^  Junius.  The  passage  is  precisely  the 
history  of  the  rise  of  the  family,  in  the  person  of  the  first 
**  John  Russell"  whose  name  was  ever  heard  of  in  English 
history. 

"  The  founder  of  the  family  had  been  a  confidential  domestic  of 
one  of  the  favourites  of  Henry  VIII.,  and  had  contrived  to  be  ap- 
pointed one  of  the  commissioners  for  '  visiting  and  taking  the  sur- 
render of  divers  religious  houses.*  It  came  to  pass  that  divers  of 
these  religious  houses  surrendered  themselves  eventually  to  the  use 
and  benefit  of  honest  Baldwin  Greymount.  The  king  was  touched 
with  the  activity  and  zeal  of  his  commissioner  ; — not  one  of  them 
whose  reports  were  so  ample  and  satisfactory,  who  could  baffle  a 
wily  prior  with  more  dexterity,  or  control  a  proud  abbot  with  more 
firmness.  Nor  were  they  well-digested  reports  alone  that  were 
transmitted  to  the  sovereign ;  they  came  accompanied  with  many 
rare  and  curious  articles,  grateful  to  the  taste  of  one  who  was  not 
only  a  religious  reformer,  but  a  dilettante  of  golden  candlesticks 
and  costly  chalices.  Sometimes  a  jewelled  pix,  fantastic  spoons  and 
patens;  occasionally  a  fair-written  and  blazoned  manuscript — , 
suitable  offering  for  the  royal  scholar.  Greymount  was  noticed, 
knighted,  might  have  become  a  minister  ;  but  his  was  a  discreet 
ambition;  of  an  accumulative  rather  than  of  an  aspiring  character. 
He  served  die  king  faithfully  in  all  domestic  matters  requiring  an 
unscrupulous  agent;  fashioned  his  creed  according  to  the  royal 
freaks,  and  contrived  to  save  both  his  head  and  his  estate. 

*'  In  1688,  alarmed  by  the  prevalent  impression  that  King  James 
intended  to  insist  on  the  restitution  of  the  Church  estates  to  dieir 
original  purposes,  the  education  of  the  people,  and  the  maintenance 
of  the  poor,  the  family  became  warm  adherents  of '  civil  and  reli- 
gious liberty,'  and  joined  the  other  whig  lords  and  lay  impropriators 
in  calling  over  the  Prince  of  Orange  and  a  Dutch  army  to  inculcate 
those  popular  principles,  which,  somehow  or  other,  the  people  would 
never  support." 


452     The  Hebraisms  and  Catholicisms  of  Disraelis  Novels, 

i 

There  is  no  reason  to  question  but  that  these  are  the  reat* 
ideas  of  Disraeli.  Elsewhere  he  has  spoken  of  the  revolution 
as  "  the  conspiracy  of  an  oligarchy."  For  the  system  of 
Church  and  State  then  established,  he  has  an  undisguised 
aversion.  So  shrewd  and  keen-sighted  a  man  could  not  fail  to 
see  through  its  hypocrisy  and  utter  unreality,  excepting  only 
in  what  is  sordid  and  selfish.  *'  You  lament  the  old  faith,'* 
says  one  of  his  characters  to  another;  and  he  answers:  "  I  am 
not  viewing  the  question  as  one  of  faith  ;  it  is  not  as  a  matter 
of  religion,  but  as  a  matter  of  right,  that  I  am  considering  it. 
You  might  have  changed,  if  you  thought  fit,  the  religion  of  th( 
abbots,  as  you  changed  the  religion  of  the  bishop  ;  but  yoi 
had  no  right  to  deprive  men  of  their  property,  and  propertj 
which  under  their  administration  so  mainly  contributed  to  the 
welfare  of  the  community  ;  as  for  community,  with  the  monas- 
teries expired  the  only  type  we  ever  had  in  England  of  such 
an  intercourse.  There  is  no  community  in  England ;  there  is 
aggregation ;  but  under  a  dissociating  rather  than  uniting 
principle."  How  true  is  this !  and  how  forcibly  is  the  result 
of  this  depicted  in  the  following  passage,  representing  the 
dreadful  state  of  large  masses  of  our  population  in  all  our 
villages  or  towns. 

"  It  is  not  that  the  people  are  immoral,  for  immorality  implies 
some  foietliought ;  or  ignorant,  for  ignorance  is  relative;  but  they 
are  animals;  unconscious;  their  minds  a  blank,  and  their  worst 
actions  only  the  impulse  of  gross  or  savage  instinct.  There  are 
many  who  are  ignorant  of  their  very  names,  very  few  who  can  spell 
them.  It  is  rare  that  you  meet  witii  a  young  person  who  knows  his 
own  age  ;  rarer  to  find  a  boy  who  has  seen  a  book,  or  the  girl  who 
has  seen  a  flower.  Ask  them  the  name  of  their  sovereign,  and  they 
will  give  you  an  unmeaning  stare  ;  ask  them  the  name  of  their  re- 
ligion, and  they  will  laugh  ;  who  rules  them  on  earth,  or  who  can 
save  them  in  heaven,  are  alike  mysteries  to  them." 

It  is  plain  from  these  extracts,  and  others  that  might  be 
given,  that  no  one  sees  more  clearly  than  Disraeli  the  miseries 
and  dangers  of  the  present  state  of  things  in  this  country;  and  it 
may  perhaps  be  added,  that  he  sees  the  causey — the  absence  of 
faith.  But  it  is  of  little  consequence  that  he  sees  a  want  which 
he  shares,  and  which  there  seems  scarcely  much  probability  that 
he  will  cure.  Like  his  own  Sidonia,  he  cares  for  nothing  but 
intellect ;  and  his  best  ideas  are  but  the  homage  which  intel- 
lect (often  unconsciously)  pays  to  faith.  We  grant  that  hi^ 
sympathies  with  Catholicity  are  more  of  Hebraism  or  acsth( 
ticism  than  any  thing  else;  and  although  it  is  clear  that  he  ha^ 
a  profound  contempt  for  Protestantism,  and  an  intense  scorn  foj 


Recent  Protestant  Tourists  in  Italy,  4ebS 

the  Established  Church,  the  lesson  which  he  reads — like  most 
lessons  of  Protestantism — is  negative  rather  than  positive;  un- 
less we  yield  to  the  suspicion  his  own  strange  language  suggests, 
that  he  is  still  in  heart  and  soul  a  Hebrew.  Certainly  it  can- 
not be  said  that  he  is  a  Protestant ;  so  that  it  is  a  curious 
phenomenon  which  he  presents — the  leader  of  a  great  Church 
party,  himself  not  a  believer  in  the  Church ;  a  champion  of 
Protestantism,  whose  sympathies  are  undeniable  both  with  Ca- 
tholicity and  Judaism.  Strange  country,  and  strange  com- 
bination of  circumstances,  in  which  such  a  man  should  have 
been  the  life  and  soul  of  a  government  which  persecuted  the 
Catholics,  and  refused  to  remove  political  restrictions  from  the 
Jews  ;  standing  evidence  of  the  utter  hollowness  of  that  sys- 
tem of  Church  and  State  which  was  the  result  of  the  Reforma- 
tion and  the  Revolution  ;  and  upon  which  he,  who  was  the 
chosen  leader  of  its  hereditary  supporters,  has  so  freely  lavished 
his  most  bitter  scorn. 


RECENT  PROTESTANT  TOURISTS  IN  ITALY. 

Six  Months  in  Italy,  By  G.  S.  Hillard.  2  vols.  London, 
Murray. 

The  Land  of  the  Forum  and  the  Vatican ;  or,  Thoughts  and 
Sketches  during  an  Easter  Pilgrimage  to  Rome.  By 
Newman  Hall,  B.A.     London,  Nisbett. 

It  is  not  often  that  we  can  commend  the  work  of  any  Pro- 
testant tourist  in  the  south  of  Italy,  written  in  the  English 
tongue,  whatever  abilities  they  may  bring  to  the  performance 
of  their  task;  whether  an  accurate  knowledge  of  history,  a  just 
appreciation  of  art,  shrewdness  and  originality  of  observation, 
or  great  powers  of  description, — all  is  too  commonly  disfigured 
by  national  prejudice  and  religious  intolerance.  We  are  in- 
debted to  an  American  gentleman,  Mr.  Hillard,  for  two  inter- 
esting volumes,  which  form  a  striking  exception  to  this  rule. 
They  are  the  record  of  a  visit  to  Italy,  and  especially  to 
Rome,  during  the  winter  of  1847-8;  but  their  publication 
appears  to  have  been  delayed  beyond  the  usual  term  allotted 
to  the  preparation  of  such  productions,  in  consequence  of 
press  of  business  preventing  the  author  from  bestowing  the 
necessary  attention  upon  them.  On  the  present  occasion, 
however,  we  are  disposed  to  say,  with  the  old  proverb,  "Bet- 
ter late  than  never."  In  a  very  modest  preface,  the  author 
tells  us  that  they  "  have  been  prepared  in  intervals  snatched 


454  Becent  Protestmit  Tourists  in  Italy, 

from  the  grasp  of  an  engrossing  profession ;"  and  that  they 
are  now  "printed  in  the  belief,  or  at  least  the  hope,  that 
those  who  have  visited  the  same  scenes  will  not  regret  to 
have  their  impressions  renewed ;  and  that  those  who  are 
looking  forward  to  Italy,  as  to  a  land  of  promise,  will  find 
here  some  hints  and  suggestions  which  may  aid  them  in  their 
preparation."  And  certainly  we  think  it  will  be  no  fault  of 
the  author's  if  this  hope  be  not  abundantly  realised  to  both 
classes  of  readers;  both  to  those  in  whose  memories  are  already 
treasured  up  "sweet  images  of  the  sunny  south,"  and  to  those 
who  are  living  in  the  anticipation  of  such  a  pleasure  yet  to 
come. 

Mr.  Hillard's  "  Six  Months"  were  passed  in  visiting  the 
cities  usually  frequented  by  foreign  tourists,  Milan,  Venice, 
Florence,  Rome,  Naples,  and  all  the  other  minor  cities 
which  lie  between  these.  The  principal  part  of  the  time, 
however,  was  spent,  as  it  ought  to  have  been,  in  Rome  ;  and 
at  least  half  of  his  work  is  devoted  to  that  city.  It  is  difficult 
on  such  a  subject  to  say  any  thing  that  shall  be  very  new;  at 
the  same  time,  these  pages  are  wholly  free  from  that  very 
common  fault  in  modern  authors  when  they  find  themselves 
engaged  on  a  stale  subject,  viz.  a  straining  after  originality. 
Mr.  Hillard's  observations  are  always  easy  and  natural ;  and 
his  criticisms  both  upon  persons  and  things,  even  when  they 
are  such  as  we  cannot  agree  with,  are  never  extravagant  or 
unreasonable.*  He  has  produced  a  handbook  valuable  to 
the  traveller,  though  somewhat  lengthy  perhaps,  and  some- 
times inclined  to  the  grandiloquent, — as  when  the  race-horses 
at  the  Roman  carnival  "  bound  forth,  swallowing  the  ground 
with  fiery  leaps."  This,  however,  is  an  exception  to  the 
general  moderation  of  his  style. 

But,  after  all,  the  special  charm  of  these  volumes  to  a  Ca- 
tholic reader  is  to  be  found  in  the  thoughtfulness  and  can- 
dour of  their  tone  in  all  that  concerns  the  ceremonies  and 
other  outward  manifestations  of  our  holy  religion.  He  is  a 
Protestant,  and  has  a  Protestant  and  an  American  dislike  of 
monasteries  (at  least  for  men  ;  for  women  he  is  disposed  to 

*  We  must,  however,  enter  our  most  emphatic  protest  against  the  passage  (ia|L. 
vol.  ii.  p.  143)  in  which  he  says  that  "the  upper  classes  in  Neapolitan  societyM: 
are,  with  many  marked  exceptions,  worthless  and  corrupt."     He  acknowledges' 
that  he  had  no  personal  knowledge  of  them,  but  he  gives  this  as  *'  the  general 
verdict  passed  upon  them  by  competent  observers."     There  is  an  old  proverb 
•which  bids  us  "  speak  of  a  man  as  we  find  him  ;"  and  if  we  don't  find  him  at  all, 
the  least  a  prudent  man  will  do  is  not  to  speak  of  him  at  all.    Mr.  Hillard  is  evi- 
dently not  a  man  who  would  willingly  bear  false  witness;  but  he  has  been  here 
imposed  upon  by  "  worthless"  informants.      We  had  the  advantage  of  Mr  Hil- 
lard in  having  some  personal  knowledge  on  this  subject,  and  our  testimony  would 
have  been  directly  the  reverse  of  that  which  he  gives  as  the  general  verdict. 


Recent  Protestant  Tourists  in  Italy,  455 

tolerate  them,  or  even  to  consider  them  a  blessing);  but  he 
nowhere  indulges  in  that  contemptuous  sneer,  or  in  those  base 
insinuations,  which  are  (we  fear  we  must  say)  the  ordinary 
characteristics  of  English  Protestant  tourists.  Neither,  on 
the  other  hand,  does  he  fall  into  that  other  Charybdis  of  a 
certain  portion  of  the  same  class — the  habit,  namely,  of  speak- 
ing on  these  subjects  in  a  patronising  tone,  after  the  fashion 
of  those  pseudo-liberals  who  have  no  religious  feelings  or  con- 
victions at  all.  The  following  passage  will  give  our  readers 
a  very  fair  insight  into  the  spirit  which  animates  all  our 
author's  remarks  on  the  Catholic  faith.  He  is  speaking  of 
the  numerous  churches  in  Rome,  and  says : 

"  Nor  can  even  a  Protestant  and  a  layman  be  insensible  to  the 
spirit  which  hangs  over  diem  all,  and  is  felt  by  every  one  who 
crosses  the  threshold  of  the  humblest  and  plainest,  unless  he  be  the 
lightest  of  scoffers  or  the  sourest  of  puritans.  They  are  open  at  all 
times,  spreading  out  their  benignant  arms  of  invitation,  and  in  the 
spirit  of  the  Saviour,  bidding  ail  who  are  weary  and  heavy-laden  to 
come  to  them  and  seek  rest.  No  surly  official  stands  at  the  en- 
trance, to  scowl  away  the  poor  Christian  that  does  not  wear  the 
wedding-garment  of  respectability.  The  interior  is  not  cut  up  into 
pews,  protected  by  doors  that  are  slow  to  open,  and  often  guarded 
by  countenances  that  are  slow  to  expand  into  a  look  of  invitation. 
The  deep  stillness,  felt  like  a  palpable  presence,  falls  with  a  hushing 
power  upon  worldly  emotions,  and  permits  whispers,  unheard  in  the 
roar  of  common  life,  to  become  audible.  The  few  persons  who  are 
present  are  either  kneeling  in  silence,  or  moving  about  with  noise- 
less steps Of  those  who  have  spent  any  considerable  time 

in  Rome,  at  least  of  those  who  have  lived  long  enough  to  feel  the 
dangers  and  duties  of  life,  there  are  but  few,  I  think,  who  will  not 
be  disposed  to  thank  the  churches  of  Rome  for  something  more  than 
mere  gratifications  of  the  taste;  for  influences,  transitory  perhaps, 
but  beneficent  while  they  last ;  for  momentary  glimpses  of  things 
spiritually  discerned  ;  for  a  presence  that  calms,  and  a  power  that 

elevates The  Romish  Church  is  wiser  than  the  Protestant, 

in  providing  so  much  more  liberally  for  that  instinct  of  worship 
which  is  a  deep  thirst  of  the  human  soul.  I  envy  not  the  head  or 
the  heart  of  that  man  who,  when  he  sees  the  pavement  of  a  Catholic 
church  sprinkled  with  kneeling  forms  and  faces  rapt  with  devotional 
fervour,  is  conscious  of  no  other  emotion  than  a  sneering  protest 
against  the  mummeries  of  superstition." 

In  another  place,  when  describing  the  magnificent  pro- 
cession which  took  place  in  Rome  on  the  occasion  of  the  re- 
covery of  the  relic  of  the  head  of  St.  Andrew,  on  April  5th, 
1848,  and  a  description  of  which  appeared  in  our  own  journal 
at  that  time,*  he  says  : 

*  Rambler,  vol.  1. 


456  Recent  Protestant  Tourists  in  Italy, 

"  The  most  conscientious  Protestant,  unless  he  were  as  hard  and 
as  cold  as  the  stones  on  which  he  stood,  could  not  help  ceasing  to 
protest,  for  the  moment  at  least ;  nor  could  he  fail  to  feel  upon  his 
heart  the  benediction  of  waters,  drawn  from  the  common  stream  of 
faith  and  emotion  before  it  had  reached  the  dividing  rock." 

Elsewhere  (ii.  191),  in  no  grudging  spirit,  he  acknowledges 
the  beneficial  influence  of  auricular  confession  in  keeping  the 
rural  population  of  the  Papal  States  "a  virtuous  people"  in 
the  matter  of  chastity ;  "  as  we  also  see,"  he  says,  "  its  good 
influence  in  the  superior  chastity  of  the  Irish  peasantry  as 
compared  with  the  English." 

It  was  impossible  that  an  American  traveller,  looking 
upon  things  with  this  impartial  eye,  and  describing  them  thus 
fairly,  should  not  be  struck  with  the  very  different  tone  usually 
adopted  by  his  cousins-german,  the  English.  Accordingly, 
Mr.  Hillard  has  given  us  a  portrait  of  "  the  Englishman 
abroad,"  whose  fidelity  will  immediately  be  recognised  by  those 
who  know  him,  whilst  the  quiet  vein  of  humour  which  per- 
vades it  will  make  it  a  very  entertaining  study  for  all.  Our 
limits  will  not  allow  us  to  quote  one  or  two  passages  which 
we  had  marked  in  the  first  volume,  where  he  speaks  of  Eng- 
land as  a  country  "  which  is  loved  by  its  people  with  most 
pugnacious  patriotism ;  while  they  are  always  running  away 
from  its  taxes,  its  dull  climate,  its  sea-coal  fires,  and  the  grim 
exclusiveness  of  its  society."  We  can  only  find  room  for  the 
following  passage,  taken  from  a  chapter  in  the  second  volume, 
which  is  wholly  devoted  to  **  the  English  in  Italy ;" 

*'  The  English  residing  or  travelling  upon  the  Continent  would, 
if  gathered  together,  make  a  large  city.  They  carry  England  with 
them  wherever  they  go.  In  Rome  there  is  an  English  church,  an 
English  reading-room,  an  English  druggist,  an  English  grocer,  and 
an  English  tailor.  As  England  is  an  island,  so  they  every  where 
form  an  insular  community,  upon  which  the  waves  of  foreign  in- 
fluence beat  in  vain.  This  peculiarity  penetrates  to  the  individual. 
A  French  or  German  table-d'hote  is  a  social  continent ;  but  an 
English  coffee-room,  at  the  hour  of  dinner,  is  an  archipelago  of 
islets,  with  deep  straits  of  reserve  and  exclusiveness  flowing  be- 
tween. Travellers  of  other  nations  learn  to  conform  to  the  manners 
and  customs  of  the  people  about  them,  avoiding  the  observation 
attracted  by  singularity.  Not  so  the  Englishman  ;  he  boldly  faces 
the  most  bristling  battery  of  comment  and  notice.  His  shooting- 
jacket,  checked  trousers,  and  beaver  gaiters,  proclaim  his  nation- 
ality before  he  begins  to  speak  ;  he  rarely  yields  to  the  seduction 
of  a  moustache  ;  he  is  inflexibly  loyal  to  tea  ;  and  will  make  a  hard 
fight  before  consenting  to  dine  at  an  earlier  hour  than  five.  The 
English  in  Rome,  as  a  general  rule,  show  little  sensibility  to  the 
peculiar  influences  of  the  place.     Towards  the  Catholic  Church  and 


Recent  Protestant  Tourists  in  Italy,  457 

its  ceremonies  tliey  turn  a  countenance  of  irreverent  curiosity;  trying 
the  spirit  of  the  Italians  by  their  careless  deportnient,  their  haughty 
strides,  and  their  inveterate  staring — intimating  that  the  forms  of 
Catholic  worship  are  merely  dramatic  entertainments  performed  by 
daylight." 

And  in  another  place  he  bears  honourable  testimony  to  the 
spirit  of  forbearance  with  which  this  intolerable  insolence  is 
borne  by  those  who  nevertheless  cannot  fail  to  be  irritated  by 
it :  ''  The  English  do  what  they  please  at  Rome,"  he  says, 
"  and  Italian  remonstrance  rarely  goes  beyond  an  expressive 
shrug  of  the  shoulders." 

Not  the  least  interesting  portion  of  Mr.  Hillard's  work 
are  the  concluding  chapters,  in  which  he  gives  a  summary  of 
the  principal  tourists  in  Italy  who  have  published  to  the  world 
any  account  of  their  impressions.  The  list  is  far  from  being 
complete  ;  still,  it  contains  many  rich  morceaux,  from  which 
we  must  select  a  single  specimen,  taken  from  Dr.  Moore's 
View  of  Society  and  Manners  in  Italy,  a  work  published 
in  the  last  quarter  of  the  last  century,  and  enjoying  then  a 
considerable  reputation.  The  author  was  a  physician,  travel- 
ling as  the  companion  of  the  Duke  of  Hamilton  ;  and  though 
born  a  Scotchman,  and  reared  a  Presbyterian,  he  seems  to 
have  been  remarkably  free  from  the  usual  prejudices  of  his 
countrymen  and  co-religionists,  if  we  may  judge  from  the  fol- 
lowing admirable  sample  of  delicate  and  good-humoured  satire. 
He  is  writing  to  a  friend;  and  speaking  of  the  Catholic  clergy, 
and  the  unjust  accusations  often  made  against  them,  he  says : 

"  I  remember  being  in  the  company  of  an  acquaintance  of  yours, 
who  is  distinguished  for  the  delicacy  of  his  table  and  the  length  of 
his  repasts,  from  which  he  seldom  retires  without  a  bottle  of  Bur- 
gundy for  his  own  share,  not  to  mention  two  or  three  glasses  of 
Champagne  between  the  courses.  We  had  dined  a  few  miles  from 
the  town  in  which  we  then  lived,  and  were  returning  in  his  chariot. 
It  was  winter,  and  he  was  wrapped  in  fur  to  the  nose.  As  we  drove 
along,  we  met  two  friars  walking  through  the  snow  in  wooden  san- 
dals. '  There  goes  a  couple  of  dainty  rogues,'  cried  your  friend, 
as  we  drew  near  them  ;  *  only  think  of  the  folly  of  permitting  such 
lazy,  luxurious  rascals  to  live  in  a  state,  and  eat  up  the  portion  of 
the  poor.  I  will  engage  that  these  two  scoundrels,  as  lean  and 
mortified  as  they  look,  will  devour  more  victuals  in  a  day  than 
would  maintain  two  industrious  families.'  He  continued  railing 
against  the  luxury  of  those  two  friars,  and  afterwards  expatiated 
upon  the  Epicurism  of  the  clergy  in  general,  who,  he  said,  were  all 
alike  in  every  country  and  of  every  religion.  When  w^e  arrived  in 
town,  he  told  me  he  had  ordered  a  nice  little  supper  to  be  got  ready 
at  his  house  by  the  time  of  our  return,  and  had  lately  got  some 
excellent  wine,  inviting  me  at  the  same  time  to  go  home  with  him ; 


458  Recent  Protestant  Tourists  in  Italy, 

'for,'  continued  he,  *  a6-  ive  have  driven  three  miles  in  such  weather 
rve  stand  in  great  need  of  some  refreshment.^  " 

Of  a  very  different  character  is  the  second  work  whose 
title  we  have  pUiced  at  the  head  of  this  article.     Indeed,  we 
owe  Mr.  Hillard  some  apology  for  having  placed  it  there  ai 
all.   We  certainly  should  not  have  noticed  it,  had  we  not  heart' 
that  its  author  was  a  non-conforming  minister,  who,  durini 
the   "  Papal  Aggression"  agitation,  had  the   courage  to  dc 
nounce  any  interference  with  the  internal  arrangements  of  tin 
Church  in  England.     We  had  a  right,  therefore,  to  expect 
something  above  the  ordinary  ran  of  vulgar  and  ignorant  abusi 
from  such  a  quarter ;  and,  indeed,  the  author  in  his  preface 
announces  his  intention  of  expressing  his  opinion  faithfully 
nevertheless,  of  speaking  the  truth  "  with  love  and  courtesy. 
He  is  even  afraid  that  he  is  too  polite,  and  apologises  for  nc 
calling  us  by  hard  names.     On  a  perusal  of  the  work,  how 
ever,  we  cannot  say  that  we  see  any  need  for  this  apology;  he 
certainly  does  set  out  with  some  appearance  of  fairness ;  k 
can  admire  the  '*  truly  evangelical  sermon"  he  heard  at  the. 
Madeleine,  the  ''logical  and  excellent"  sermon  of  the  Capuchir 
friar  at  Valence,  of  which  he  gives  abstracts ;  also  the  actior 
of  the  preacher  at  the  Duomo  at  Florence,  whose  sermon,  su 
he  does  not  describe,  he  probably  could  not  understand  (for 
if  we  may  judge  by  false  spellings  and  false  concords,  like  sc 
many  other  English  tourists  who  give  very  dogmatic  opinionc 
on  Italian  subjects,  he  scarcely  understands  a   word  of  the 
language),  and   the   evident  devotion   of  the  people,  which: 
however  "  misguided,"  he  has  the  candour  to  prefer  to  the 
utter  coldness  in  worship  to  which  he  is  accustomed  at  home. 
But  here  his  fairness  ends:  w^e  will  let  our  readers  judge  foi 
themselves  of  his  love  and  courtesy. 

"  While  we  were  examining  the  numerous  frescoes  on  the  old 
walls  [in  the  Dominican  church  of  Sta.  Maria  Novella,  Florence], 
the  most  hideous  nasal  sounds,  intended  for  chanting,  came  fronr 
behind  the  high  altar;  and  presently  there  issued  from  the  pene- 
tralia a  swarm  of  naked-footed  (?)  monks,  whose  features  and  general 
aspect  were  such  that  any  caricaturist,  wishing  to  be  uncompli 
mentary  to  their  order,  could  not  succeed  so  well  by  any  effort  o) 
his  imagination  as  by  faithfully  taking  their  portraits.  When  wc 
saw  the  singers,  we  ceased  to  w  onder  at  the  sounds  ;  and  remem- 
bering how  nearly  the  Dominicans  and  the  Inquisition  are  related 
we  shuddered  at  the  bare  possibility  of  any  one  being  in  the  powei 
of  men  apparently  so  destitute  of  all  human  sympathies.  We  were 
shocked  also  at  the  irreverence  with  which  they  performed  theii 
own  worship,  and  particularly  noticed  one  who  was  close  by  us,  and 
who,  though  professedly  saying  his  prayers,  was  looking  about  ir 


Recent  Protestant  Tourists  in  Italy,  459 

all  directions,  and  spitting  most  disgustingly  and  without  intermis- 
sion on  the  marble  pavement  of  the  church. 

•*  Am  I  uncharitable  ?  Come  with  us,  then,  into  the  chapter- 
house. Look  at  that  large  fresco  painting  representing  the  Church 
militant  and  the  Church  triumphant.  On  the  one  side,  the  Pope 
and  the  Emperor  on  thrones,  surrounded  by  bishops  and  other  per- 
sons of  distinction,  are  watching  a  pack  of  dogs  as  they  drive  away 
from  a  flock  of  sheep  some  ravenous  wolves.  These  dogs  of  the 
Lord  (Domini  canes)  are  black  and  white,  the  colours  of  the  Do- 
minicans whom  they  represent.  The  wolves  whom  they  are  de- 
stroying, tearing  open  their  bowels  in  the  fiercest  canine  fashion, 
depict  the  Waldenses  and  other  heretics  ;  while  the  sheep  are  the 
good  Papists,  imperilled  by  their  wicked  errors  !  In  the  corner  of 
the  fresco  some  of  the  heretics  are  represented  as  converted,  in  the 
act  of  destroying  their  books,  &c Here  then  are  the  per- 
secutions of  Popery,  in  England  often  denied  as  fabulous,  publicly 
commemorated  in  the  fresco  of  a  Romanist  churcii,  and  gloried  in 
as  one  of  the  virtues  of  the  Dominicans.  Would  Protestants  be 
guilty  of  vulgar  uncharitableness  in  calling  them  sanguinary  blood- 
hounds ?  It  would  be  unnecessary,  as  it  is  the  character  they  give 
themselves." 

No  doubt  our  author  thinks  it  a  great  sin  to  go  barefoot ; 
and  therefore  he  falsely  imputes  the  practice  to  the  Domini- 
cans, in  order  to  heighten  his  colouring.  It  is  certainly  quite 
against  his  own  principles,  as  we  learn  by  his  dainty  way  of 
keeping  ''  the  Sabbath"  at  Marseilles,  after  three  days  of 
weary  sight-seeing.  **  It  was  a  luxury,"  he  says,  "  to  awake 
gradually,  to  dress  leisurely,  to  breakfast  deliberately ;  we 
could  enter  into  the  joy  of  the  day."  Then,  no  doubt  it  is  a 
sin  to  be  ugly,  and  to  sing  through  the  nose;  and  it  is  enough 
to  condemn  a  whole  body  of  monks,  if  one  of  their  number 
stares  about  and  spits  during  divine  office.  But,  after  all,  this 
description  is  only  intended  to  raise  a  prejudice,  and  make 
his  most  absurd  interpretation  of  the  fresco  more  probable 
and  palatable.  Absurd  it  undoubtedly  is;  for  if  the  dogs  are 
to  be  interpreted  literally  as  bloodhounds,  it  is  but  fair  to  do 
the  same  for  the  wolves  ;  if  the  dogs  tearing  the  wolves  are 
literal,  so  are  the  wolves  tearing  the  sheep ;  if  one  is  an  alle- 
gory, so  are  the  others.  But  our  author  is  a  humanitarian, 
a  feeble-minded  man  with  a  heart  like  Leigh  Hunt,  but  with 
an  intellect  much  inferior  to  his  ;  for  while  he  treats  the 
Church  as  the  synagogue  of  Satan,  for  persecutions  of  which 
he  gives  a  false  and  exaggerated  account,  he  receives  the 
Old  Testament,  which  Leigh  Hunt  rejects,  and  believes  Moses, 
Josue,  and  David  to  h;ive  been  friends  of  God,  whom  Leigh 
Hunt  treats  as  miserable  assassins.  If  their  age  excused  them, 
surely  the  spirit  of  the  middle  ages  excused  the  Church ;  if 


460  Recent  Protestant  Tourists  in  Italy. 

the  Popes  are  to  be  condemned,  so  are  the  Patriarchs.  But 
he  carries  his  inconsistency  further ;  he  finds  a  picture  of 
Oliver  Cromwell  at  Florence,  and  takes  occasion  to  go  into  a 
rhapsody  about  the  "spiritual  religion"  of  that  most  able  and 
strong-minded  hypocrite,  the  would-be  exterminator  of  Popery 
in  Ireland.  Not  all  persecutors  therefore  are  bad.  Cromwell 
is  a  saint;  the  assassins  of  the  first  French  Revolution  are 
bad  ;  but  the  Inquisitors  are  the  worst  of  all,  the  only  ones 
for  whom  not  a  word  of  apology  can  be  offered.  We  may 
almost  say  that  the  key-note  of  his  book  is  abuse  of  the 
cruelty  of  the  Church,  and  sympathy  with  the  mildness,  the 
misfortunes,  and  the  sufferings  of  the  revolutionists,  to  whom 
he  evidently  wishes  success. 

The  volume  is  divided  into  seven  books,  of  which  the 
fourth  is  devoted  to  the  ceremonies  of  Holy  Week  in  Rome, 
most  of  which  he  pronounces  to  be  mummery,  and  worse; 
though  he  is  deeply  touched  with  the  chanting  of  the  Passion, 
and  expresses  his  feelings  in  a  passage  which  is  worth  ex- 
tracting. 

"Tiien  followed  what  I  shall  never  forget,  the  intoning  by  three 
priests  of  the  narrative  of  the  Passion  by  St.  John,  the  only  Apostle 
who  followed  his  Lord  to  the  cross,  and  was  an  eye-witness  of  His 
sufferings.  It  was  read  or  sung  dramatically,  though  without  action 
or  any  repulsive  aiming  at  effect.  The  peculiarity  consisted  in  each 
priest  assuming  a  distinct  part.  Thus,  one  of  them  recited  only  the 
words  of  the  historian;  the  second,  those  uttered  by  our  Lord; 
while  the  third  came  in,  at  the  different  points  of  the  story,  with 
the  language  of  Pilate  and  other  subordinate  actors.  The  most 
startling  effect  was  produced  by  the  choir  personating  the  rabble, 
and,  in  wild  angry  tones,  shouting,  '  Not  this  man,  but  Barabbas !' 
and  '  Crucify  him,  crucify  him  !*  I  must  confess  that  this  part  of 
the  service,  in  which  no  words  but  those  of  inspiration  were  em- 
ployed, and  these  so  touchingly  descriptive  of  the  most  momentous 
event  in  the  world's  history,  affected  me  very  deeply.  But  when 
at  the  words  *  inclinato  capite  tradidit  spiritum'  ('  He  bowed  the 
head  and  gave  up  the  ghost'),  the  Pope  and  tlie  Cardinals  rose  from 
their  seats  and  knelt,  and  all  the  congregation  knelt,  and  the  voices 
of  the  priests  were  still,  and  an  intense  silence  prevailed  for  several 
minutes,  I  could  not  remain  on  my  feet,  as  I  had  so  often  done 
amidst  a  kneeling  crowd.  I  bent  with  all  around  me;  for  there  was 
no  outward  object  held  up;  it  was  at  the  majesty  of  the  truth  which 
had  been  read  ;  it  was  to  the  suffering  Saviour,  of  whose  agonies 
we  had  just  heard.  I  could  not  restrain  my  tears;  and  earnest 
were  then  my  prayers,  that  the  Crucified  One  might  reign  more 
fully  in  my  heart  and  in  that  of  all  my  friends,  and  that  in  His 
mercy  He  would  remove  that  veil  of  superstition  which  so  con- 
cealed the  full  brightness  of  His  Gospel  from  those  who,  amid  so 


Recent  Protestant  Tourists  in  Italy.  461 

many  corruptions,  still  held  this  great  central  truth  of  His  media- 
torial death.  Whatever  some  of  my  Protestant  readers  may  think 
of  it,  I  felt  pleasure  at  the  time;  and  I  feel  pleasure  now  in  the 
remembrance,  that  amid  so  very  many  things  in  which  I  felt  com- 
pelled openly  to  manifest  my  non-concurrence,  there  was  one  act 
of  worship  in  which  I  could  conscientiously  join.  Surely  it  would 
have  been  the  exaggeration  of  Protestantism  to  refuse  to  kneel  with 
the  Romanists  in  silent  prayer  at  the  reading  of  the  narrative  of  the 
Saviour's  death." 

When  Mr.  Newman  Hall  calls  to  mind  that  this  is  the  same 
scene  of  which  another  Protestant  traveller,  whom  he  often 
quotes  with  approbation  (Mr.  Hobart  Seymour),  has  written 
that  ''  though  some  persons  regarded  it  as  having  an  unusual 
and  striking,  and  not  unpleasant  effect,  yet  on  my  own  mind 
the  effect  produced  was  very  far  from  pleasing  or  satisfactory; 
there  is  something  repulsive  to  our  tastes,  if  not  to  our  judg- 
ments, to  find  a  theatrical  character  connected  with  so  holy 
:an  exercise" — when,  we  say,  Mr.  Newman  Hall  has  leisure 
to  reflect  on  this  difference  of  judgment  between  himself  and 
a  fellow-Protestant,  he  may  perhaps  see  reason  to  question 
both  the  wisdom  and  the  charity  of  those  judgments  which  he 
has  so  unscrupulously  passed  on  every  thing  which  did  not 
happen  to  be  in  accordance  with  his  own  particular  taste. 

The  fifth  book  of  Mr.  Newman  Hall's  work  is  devoted  to 
"  developments  of  Romanism  in  Rome."  The  first  chapter  of 
this  work  is  occupied  with  "  relics,"  all  of  which  he  assumes 
to  be  false;  and  the  "Bottle  of  the  Virgin's  Milk"  (which  he 
did  not  know  is  only  supposed  to  have  streamed  from  a  mi- 
raculous picture  or  image)  not  only  false  but  indelicate.  Next 
come  ''  Indulgences,"  which  he  has  the  kindness  to  confess 
are  not  meant  for  future  sins  ;  but  *'  incidit  in  Scyllam  qui 
vult  vitare  Charyhdin ;''  he  insists  that  "  Romanists  say  that 
the  Blood  of  Christ  obtains  the  remission  of  eternal  punish- 
ment only,  leaving  the  temporal  punishment  ....  to  be 
atoned  for  in  some  other  way."  When  will  Protestants  learn 
that  we  are  not  answerable  for  their  guesses,  and  illogical  de- 
ductions from  partial  views  of  our  doctrines  ?  Then  comes  the 
worship  of  images,  in  which  matter  he,  like  most  Protestants, 
seems  to  think  that  there  is  something  morally  wrong  in  vene- 
rating a  visible  form,  though  the  same  objection  does  not  apply 
to  venerating  an  audible  name  ;  for,  philosophically,  what  is 
the  difference  between  one  sensible  symbol  and  another  ? 
Why  is  it  more  idolatry  to  bow  the  knee  to  an  image  of 
Jesus  than  to  His  name  ?  When  the  Decalogue  was  given, 
God  had  not  manifested  Himself  in  visible  form,  only  by  a 
voice  from  Sinai ;  hence  His  only  symbol  was  His  name,  which 


462  Illustrated  Books, 

was  worshipped  with  divine  honour  :  now  "  we  have  seen  the 
Word  of  Life,"  and  we  venerate  His  form,  whenever  we  see  It 
imaged  forth.  But  Protestantism  is  a  dry  and  bare  literalism, 
and  cannot  endure  reason  or  argument,  only  **  texts."  Then 
comes  the  "  Mediatorship  of  the  Virgin  and  Saints,"  proved, 
among  other  things,  by  the  fact,  that  in  the  Rosary  there  are 
ten  Hail  Marys  for  one  Our  Father ;  then  a  chapter  on  the 
Bible  in  Rome.  Before,  we  had  a  chapter  on  the  Bible  in 
Florence,  apropos  of  the  Madiai ;  his  one  test  of  religion  and 
liberty  is  the  right  to  read  any  version  of  the  Bible  a  man 
thinks  fit.  He  does  not  seem  to  be  aware  of  the  infidelity 
which  the  unrestricted  use  of  the  Old  Testament  has  intro- 
duced into  England.  From  Paley  to  Pye  Smith,  we  do  not 
believe  that  there  is  a  single  thoughtful  Protestant  who  really 
believes  all  the  Old  Testament  to  be  the  Word  of  God.  Our 
author  condemns  persecution  in  terms  that  would  condemn 
that  book ;  and  yet,  forsooth,  there  can  be  no  salvation  but 
where  that  book,  so  fruitful  in  occasions  of  error,  is  placed, 
without  note  or  comment,  in  the  hands  of  educated  and  un- 
educated alike. 

But  we  will  not  waste  more  words  on  an  author  of  this 
class;  he  is  a  man  of  weak  argumentative  powers,  and  belongs 
to  that  under-educated  class,  so  common  among  non-conform- 
ists, that  is  always  dragging  in  religion  by  the  shoulders,  and 
"improving  the  occasion."  So  inveterate  is  this  habit  with 
him,  that  he  cannot  admire  the  models  of  the  Venus  de  Me- 
dicis,  without  taking  occasion  to  reflect  that  Christ  is  our  true 
model.  This  is  all  very  well;  but  such  a  persevering  sermon- 
iser  is  rather  ludicrous,  and  intolerably  dull  company. 


ILLUSTRATED  BOOKS. 


« 


1.  The  Book  of  Celebrated  Poems,  containing  forty-three  of 
the  most  popular  poems  in  the  English  language ;  with 
upwards  of  eighty  engravings,  from  drawings  b}'  Cope,  K. 
Meadows,  Dodgson,  J.  Ferguson.    Sampson  Low  and  Son. 

2.  Proverbial  Philosophy,    By  Martin  F.  Tupper.    Illustrated 

edition.     Hatchard. 

3.  Gray's  Elegy.     Illustrated  edition.     Cundall. 

4.  Poems  and  Pictures.     Burns  and  Lambert. 

5.  The  Old  Story -Teller;  Popular  Tales  collected  by  L.  Bech- 
stein  ;  with  100  Illustrations  by  Richtcr.     Addey  and  Co. 

6.  The  Charm ;  a  Book  for  Boys  and  Girls.     Addey  and  Co. 


Illustrated  Books.  463 

7.  TJie  Parables  of  Frederic  Adolphus  Krummacher,  with  40 
Illustrations  by  Clayton.     Nathaniel  Cooke. 

8.  The  Ice  King^  and  the  Sweet  South  Wiiid,  By  Mrs.  Caro- 
line H.  Butler.     Addey  and  Co. 

9.  The  Adventures  of  a  Dog,  and  a  good  Dog  too.  By  Alfred 
Elwes,  with  8  Illustrations  by  Harrison  Weir.  Addey  and 
Co. 

10.  Turner  and  Girtin' s  Picturesque  Vieivs  Sixty  Years  since. 
Edited  by  Thomas  Miller.     Hogarth. 

11.  TJie  Pictorial  Book  of  Ancient  Ballad  Poetry  of  Great 
Britain,  with  a  selection  of  modern  imitations  and  some 
translations.  Edited  by  J.  S.  Moore,  Esq.  Washbourne 
and  Co. 

\^.  The  Pretty  Plate.  By  John  Vincent.  With  4  Illustra- 
tions by  Darley.     Addey  and  Co. 

13.  Drawing  and  Perspective.  A  Series  of  Progressive  Les- 
sons, with  General  Instructions.  Edinburgh  :  W.  and  R. 
Chambers. 

14.  The  Illustrated  London  Drawing  Book.    Nathaniel  Cooke. 

15.  Flowers  from  the  Garden  of  Knowledge.  By  Maria  Jacob. 
Nathaniel  Cooke. 

16.  Tlie  Picture  Pleasure-Book ^  500  Illustrations.  Addey 
and  Co. 

There  are  few  things  more  characteristic  of  the  present 
day  than  the  condition  and  progress  of  what  are  technically 
called  "  Illustrated  Books."  Take  up  an  illuminated  Missal 
of  the  15th  century  and  the  last  number  of  the  Illustrated 
London  News  of  1854,  and  you  have  the  contrast  between  the 
arts  of  the  two  eras  before  you  in  one  of  its  most  striking 
forms.  Yet  the  Illustrated  News  itself  has  a  more  recent  com- 
petitor in  the  same  field,  perhaps  even  more  characteristic  of 
the  year  which  has  given  it  birth.  A  speculative  and  puffing 
publisher,  Cassell  by  name,  is  issuing  a  penny  sheet,  crowded 
with  illustrations,  which,  if  not  fully  equal  to  those  of  its  pro- 
totype, are  by  no  means  contemptible.  Mr.  Cassell  boasts  of 
an  immense  circulation  as  crowning  his  project  with  success  ; 
and  considering  that  he  probably  clears  nearly  one  farthing 
on  each  copy  that  is  sold,  after  paying  for  the  first  outlay  of 
engravings,  compilation,  and  composition,  it  is  very  likely  that 
he  turns  over  a  respectable  sum  of  money  weekly. 

We  can  imagine  how  the  weekly  production  of  these  and 
many  other  illustrated  periodicals  would  literally  astound  an 
old  illuminator.  And  really  it  is  astonishing.  It  is  surprising 
—  and  to  us  almost  painful  —  to  think  of  the  everlasting 
stretch  of  thought  and  attention,  the  restless  watchfulness,  the 

VOL.  I. NEW  SERIES.  K  K 


tl65«  Illustrated  Books. 

daily  anxieties,  and  the  midnight  toils,  which  thousands  of  men, 
women,  and  children  endure  in  keeping  up  this  unfailing  sup- 
ply of  hebdomadal  engravings  and  letter-press  accompanying. 
Happy  they,  in  our  judgment,  whose  lot  it  is  to  weigh  out 
sugars,  or  to  measure  tape  and  calico,  rather  than  to  spend 
their  life  in  a  round  of  toils,  which  permit  not  a  day's  or  an 
hour's  repose  ; — toils  whose  result  is  beauty  and  pleasure  for 
others ;  but  for  those  who  undergo  them,  nothing  but  a  bare 
living,  with  loss  of  health,  loss  of  sight,  loss  of  spirits,  and  a 
premature  old  age. 

At  present,  however,  we  are  not  specially  occupied  with 
the  illustrated  periodicals  of  the  day,  but  with  those  illustrated 
hooks,  which  more  than  any  thing  else  show  how  remarkable 
an  advance  has  been  made  in  the  general  cultivation  of  the 
artistic  faculty  in  our  professional    painters    and  engravers. 
Looking  back  to  what  children's  books  and  illustrated  pubh- 
cations  in  general  have  been  in  our  own  time,  the  advance  ' 
actually  extraordinary.     Take  up  one  of  the  few,  the  very  fe 
children's  books  of  our  own  young  days,  which  had  one,  two,  oi 
perhaps  half  a  dozen  prints  to  please  the  childish  eye  ;  or  some 
chance  numbers  of  any  of  that  host  of  twopenny  weekly  mis 
cellanies,   the  Mirror,   or  the  Hive,  with  scores    of  others 
which,  about  thirty  years  ago,  flooded  the  booksellers'  shops 
and   then  turn  to  the  publications  which  we  have  placed  a 
the  head  of  our  present  remarks.     The  contrast  is  perhap: 
greater  than  could  be  discerned  in  the  works  of  any  two  othe 
periods  in  the  whole  history  of  art,  separated  by  so  short  ai 
interval  of  time.      We  speak,  of  course,  of  wood-engravinj 
only  ;  for  we  must  go  back  three  centuries  if  we  would  recu 
to  the  young  days  of  copper-engraving  and  etching.     We  o 
this  day  have  made  little  or  no  advances  upon  the  skill  of  th< 
past  generation  in  line  engraving;  for  the  good  reason  tha 
little  advance  was  to  be  made.     In  some  respects  we  are  e\fl| 
going  back.     In  fact,  the  greatest  line-engraver  who  ever  li^l 
• — a  man  who  actually  stands  alone  in  the  graver's  art,  Raffiiell 
Morghen,  was  born  in  Italy  in  the  middle  of  the  last  cer 
tury.     Still,  the  landscape  branch  of  the  art  was  far  behin 
the    historical    division.     What    our    English    "  Illustrate 
Books"  used  to  be,   may  be  estimated  from   the   somewha 
curious  and  handsomely  got  up  volume,  called  "  Turner  an 
Girtins'  Picturesque  Views,  sixty  years  since."     This  boo 
consists  of  a  collection  of  prints,  taken  from  the  original  coj 
per-plates  themselves,  which  were  disinterred  by  the  publisl 
a  short  time  ago;  with  a  few  memorandums  of  the  lives^ 
Turner  and  his  early  friend  Girtin,  by  Mr.  Miller;  and 
scriptions  of  the  plates  by  various  hands.     The  work  is  c^ 


Illustrated  Books,  465 

tainly  curious,  as  showing  what  Girtin  might  have  become 
had  he  lived,  and  as  giving  undoubted  indications  of  the  pecu- 
har  genius  of  Turner  in  his  after  years.  Already  it  is  impos- 
sible not  to  observe  the  results  of  that  unrivalled  eye  and 
hand  for  aerial  perspective  which  made  Turner  the  greatest 
of  landscape  painters. 

Returning,  then,  to  those  wood-engravings, — or,  as  they 
used  more  modestly  to  be  called,  wood-cuts, — which  form  the 
chief  staple  of  book-illustrations,  it  occurs  to  us  that  some  of 
our  readers  may  not  be  perfectly  familiar  with  the  peculiarities 
which  distinguish  the  different  works  of  the  graver's  skill; 
and  that,  when  we  say  that  wood-engravings  are  the  only  kind 
which  can  be  worked  up  with  letter-press,  and  sold  at  the 
present  cheap  prices,  they  would  be  glad  to  know  why  this  is 
so.  We  shall,  therefore,  beg  the  better  informed  reader's 
pardon  for  repeating  what  he  already  knows,  while  we  briefly 
indicate  the  principal  of  the  various  processes  of  the  modern 
engraver's  art. 

Etching  is  both  the  first  process  in  regular  copper  or  steel 
engraving,  and  a  species  of  engraving  complete  in  itself.  In 
the  latter  case,  the  v^^ork  is  merely  carried  out  with  a  degree  of 
finish  uncalled  for  in  the  former.  In  etching,  the  metal  plate 
is  covered  with  a  thin  coating  of  a  mixture  of  wax,  mastic, 
&c.,  on  which  the  picture  to  be  represented  is  traced  with  a 
species  of  needle,  each  stroke  of  the  needle  laying  bare  the 
surface  of  the  plate  beneath.  Aqua-fortis  (nitrous  acid)  is 
then  poured  upon  the  coating,  which,  passing  down  the  cre- 
vices made  by  the  needle,  eats  into  the  surface  of  the  plate, 
and  produces  a  line  cut  into  the  metal,  precisely  as  if  it  had 
been  formed  by  the  hand.  The  characteristic  beauty  of 
etching  is  the  freedom  of  touch  which  it  allows  as  opposed  to 
that  somewhat  mechanical  stiffness  which  accompanies  regular 
engraving,  the  latter  being  a  process  requiring  far  more  mus- 
cular force  than  the  former. 

In  Engraving  (technically  so  called)  on  steel  or  copper, 
after  the  outline  has  been  put  in  by  etching,  the  details  and 
complete  effect  are  produced  by  an  innumerable  quantity  of 
lines,  marks,  and  dots,  cut  into  the  metal  with  a  hurin  or 
graver,  applied  by  the  hand.  The  process  is  most  tedious, 
and  not  a  little  injurious  to  the  sight. 

Mezzo-tint  is  a  variety  of  steel  or  copper  engraving,  pro- 
duced by  a  curious  device.  The  smooth  plate  is  indented,  or 
hacked  all  over  with  a  sharp  instrument,  which  covers  it  with 
innumerable  lines  in  all  directions.  If  ink  were  applied 
to  the  plate  in  this  condition,  and  an  impression  taken  from  it, 
the  result  would  be  a  uniform  black  colour,  marked  with  num- 


466  Illustrated  Books, 

berless  deeper  touches.  The  picture  is  produced  on  the  plate 
by  scraping  away  the  indented  surface,  more  or  less  of  the 
ground  being  left  according  to  the  less  or  greater  degrees  of 
light  which  it  is  intended  to  represent.  The  chief  beauty  of 
mezzo-tint  lies  in  its  softness  and  depth  of  shadows  ;  its  chief 
defect  consists  in  the  poverty  and  dulness  of  its  lights,  and  in 
its  deficiency  in  delicacy  of  detail.  It  produces,  moreover, 
but  comparatively  few  impressions  before  the  plate  is  worn 
out. 

Aqua-tint  is  a  method  but  little  used.  It  combines  the 
use  of  a  species  of  a  mezzo-tint  ground,  with  the  application  of 
acid  (as  in  etching)  for  the  production  of  the  lights. 

Lithography  is  strictly  what  the  name  imports — a  writing 
or  drawing  upon  stone.  The  design  is  drawn  upon  a  peculiar 
species  of  stone,  with  a  prepared  black  chalk  of  a  greasy  nature. 
When  the  surface  is  then  covered  with  printer's  ink  (which  is 
a  greasy  fluid),  the  ink  adheres  to  the  chalk-marks  left  on  the 
stone  (which  is  previously  wetted),  and  to  those  marks  alone; 
and  it  is  then  transferred  to  paper  by  the  ordinary  printing 
process. 

None,  then,  of  these  forms  of  engraving  are  applicable  to 
the   common  printing-press.      In   all  metal  plates,  the  dark 
portions  in  the  print  are  produced  by  the  hollows  in  the  en- 
graved plate;  and  the  process  of  filling  the  hollows  with  ink  and 
of  cleaning  the  projecting  portions  from  all  stain  is  necessarily 
tedious,  and  makes  the  production  of  each  separate  impression 
a  comparatively  costly  affair,  to  say  nothing  of  the  origii 
cost   of  the    engraving.       But   in    letter- press   printing,  tl 
printed  impression  is  produced  by  the  py-ojec ting  parts  of  tl 
type,   and    the   inking    them   for  each  successive  impressic 
on  the  paper  is  accomplished  with  extraordinary  rapidity, 
also  is  the  actual  striking  off  each  impression  itself.     Engral 
ings,  therefore,  to  be  printed  with  letter-press,  or  by  the  sai 
rapid  process,  must  be  produced  by  precisely  the  same  meai 
as  common  printed  letters; — and  this  is  the  case  with  ivooi 
engraving.     The  drawing  is  made  with  a  common  but  vei 
hard  lead  pencil  upon  the  smooth  surface  of  a  piece  of  box- 
wood slightly  whitened  to  assist  the  sight,  and  the  lights  are 
cut  out  with  various  little  instruments  ;  the  projecting  part> 
that  remain  taking  the  printer's  ink,  just  as  in  the  case  oJ 
common  printing-type.    The  designs  are  generally  drawn  b) 
the  artist  himself  upon  the  wood ;   though  this   part  of  the 
work  is    sometimes   intrusted  to   the   engraver.      The  large 
wood-cuts   which   appear  in  such  publications  as  the  Illus- 
trated London  News  are  produced  by  the  junction  of  several j 
separate  pieces  of  wood, — the  box  being  a  tree  of  small  girthlj 


Illustrated  Books,  467 

In  cases  where  great  rapidity  of  production  is  called  for,  these 
pieces  are  actually  engraved  by  different  hands,  and  reunited 
when  finished.  In  the  hurry  of  modern  newspaper  work,  the 
junction  is  often  not  very  complete,  as  may  be  seen  by  the 
defects  constantly  visible  in  the  large  engravings  in  periodi- 
cals. Box -wood  being  very  hard,  an  immense  number  of 
impressions  may  be  taken  from  it  before  the  engraving  is 
materially  injured.  Any  of  our  readers  who  are  curious  as 
to  the  details  of  this  beautiful  art  will  find  them  given  in  one 
of  the  works  on  our  list.  The  Illustrated  London  Drawing' 
hook,  an  interesting,  useful,  and  very  cheap  book,  containing, 
among  other  things,  a  complete  and  not  overloaded  guide  to 
perspective  drawing.  The  student  could  hardly  lay  out  a 
couple  of  shillings  to  greater  advantage.  And  as  a  sequel  to 
it,  we  may  recommend  the  '*  Series  of  Progressive  Lessons  in 
Drawing  and  Perspective,"  published  in  Chambers'  Educational 
Course.  These  are  executed  in  lithography,  and,  with  the 
exception  of  the  "  animals"  (which  are  feeble  and  meagre), 
furnish  a  large  variety  of  excellent  studies,  from  the  human 
figure  down  to  decorative  drawing. 

Taking,  however,  the  series  before  us  in  the  order  in  wdiicli 
we  have  placed  them,  the  first  is  precisely  what  its  title  claims 
for  it.  We  know  no  other  collection  of  the  best  of  our  short 
poems,  which  equals  it  in  compass,  variety,  and  judiciousness 
of  selection.  The  series  extends  from  Chaucer  to  Longfellow, 
and  includes  poems  of  greater  length  than  are  usually  found 
in  miscellaneous  editions.  "  Comus,"  for  instance,  is  given 
at  length ;  so  also  is  "  The  Prisoner  of  Chillon,"  and  "  Ger- 
trude of  Wyoming."  The  illustrations  are  of  fair  merit,  some 
of  them  decidedly  above  the  average;  but  the  *'  getting  up"  of 
the  volume  is  perfect.  The  whole  is  printed  on  delicately-tinted 
paper,  and  the  binding  is  the  handsomest  specimen  of  *^  cloth" 
covering  we  have  ever  seen.  At  first  sight  it  might  pass  for 
a  rich,  solid  morocco.  What  a  contrast  to  the  old-fashioned 
papered  boards  of  twenty  or  thirty  years  ago  ! 

Scarcely  less  striking  is  the  mode  in  which  the  new  edi- 
tion of  Mr.  Tnpper's  popular  Proverbial  Philosophy  is  now 
offered  to  the  purchasers  of  gift-books.  As  is  too  common 
with  English  artists,  the  landscapes  are  far  superior  to  the 
figure-pieces,  though  none  are  unworthy  of  the  place  they 
fill,  as  illustrating  Mr.  Tupper's  very  clever  and  somewhat 
singular  book.  Many  of  them  are  favourable  specimens  of 
the  wood-engraver's  skill.  Hard-headed  and  shrewd  remarks 
have  been  rarely  presented  to  the  world  in  a  more  attractive 
guise. 

The  third  on  our  list  is  the  ever-charming  Elegy  in  a 


468  Illustrated  Boohs, 

Country  Churcliyard.  Mr.  Cundall's  edition  is  in  every  way 
most  elegant.  The  illustrations  preserve  the  delightful  pathos 
which,  with  all  its  elaboration,  makes  the  *'  Elegy"  one  of 
the  most  touching  and  natural  poems  in  any  language.  Its 
rich-sounding  stanzas  are  unlike  the  more  rapid  and  irregular 
strains  which  later  poets  conceive  to  be  the  only  appropriate 
vehicle  for  the  poetry  of  sentiment  and  grief;  but,  in  our 
judgment,  they  are  pervaded  by  a  feeling  of  satisfying  repose^ 
which  the  schools  that  have  succeeded  Gray  have  rarely,  if  ever, 
attained.  The  majority  of  the  drawings  are  by  Birkett  Booster, 
and  worthy  of  his  reputation.  Those  by  "  A  Lady"  show 
considerable  feeling,  and  in  some  instances  are  altogether 
charming ;  but  here  and  there,  where  she  has  attempted  some- 
thing not  purely  domestic  or  rural,  her  pencil  loses  its  poetry. 

The  Poems  and  Pictures  is  the  second  edition  of  a 
capital  selection  of  poetry,  already  known  to  many  of  our 
readers.  Its  profuse  illustrations  are  in  some  respects  un- 
equalled by  any  more  recently  issued  books  of  the  kind.  In 
fact,  we  cannot  call  to  mind  any  miscellaneous  collection  of 
poems  or  prose  which  numbers  among  its  illustrations  so  many 
painters  of  so  high  reputation  as  Cope,  Dyce,  Creswick, 
Horsley,  Redgrave,  Pickersgill,  Corbould,  and  others.  In 
common  with  others  in  our  present  catalogue,  it  shows  the 
typographical  care  and  skill  of  our  own  printers,  Me 
Levey,  Robson,  and  Franklyn. 

The  next  on  the  list  may  be  named  as  furnishing  a  pe 
liarly  striking  proof  of  the  strides  which  book  illustration 
made  among  us.  Bechstein's  Old  Story-Teller  is  nothing 
more  than  a  volume  of  fairy  tales,  quaint  stories,  and  pre 
allegories,  attractive  to  many  grown-up  readers,  but  special 
designed  for  boys  and  girls.  Its  cover,  indeed,  fits  it  for  a 
drawing-room,  while  Richter's  100  illustrations  are  nothi 
less  than  capital.  Sometimes  graceful  and  almost  touchi 
but  generally  odd  and  farcical,  they  are,  to  our  taste,  t 
best  embodiments  we  have  seen  of  the  quiet  spirit  of  sat 
which  lies  hid  in  so  many  of  the  extravaganzas  of  fairy-Ian 
and  its  border-regions  of  enchantment  in  general.  The  storie 
are  collected,  not  written,  by  Bechstein  ;  and  though  amoni 
the  rest  an  occasional  old  favourite  (but  newly  told)  occurs 
the  greater  portion  will  be  fresh  to  the  English  reader,  botl 
young  and  old.  Here  and  there  appears  a  story  of  a  directh 
religious  character  ;  and  one  of  these — a  peculiarly  beautifl 
legend — we  cannot  forbear  quoting: 

"  Many  years  ago,  there  dwelt  in  a  cloister  a  young  nn 
named  Urban,  who  was  remarkable  for  an  earnest  and  dev 
frame  of  mind  beyond  his  fellows,  and  was  therefore  intrusted  wi 


] 


Illustrated  Books,  4^ 

the  key  of  the  convent  library.  He  was  a  careful  guardian  of  its 
contents,  and  besides,  a  studious  reader  of  its  learned  and  sacred 
volumes.  One  day  he  read  in  the  Epistles  of  St.  Peter  the  words, 
'  One  day  is  with  the  Lord  as  a  thousand  years,  and  a  thousand 
years  as  one  day  ;'  and  this  saying  seemed  impossible  in  his  eyes, 
so  that  he  spent  many  an  hour  in  musing  over  it.  Then  one  morn- 
ing it  happened  that  the  monk  descended  from  the  library  into  the 
cloister- garden,  and  there  he  saw  a  little  bird  perched  on  the  bough 
of  a  tree,  singing  sweetly,  like  a  nightingale.  The  bird  did  not 
move  as  the  monk  approached  her,  till  he  came  quite  close,  and 
then  she  flew  to  another  bougii,  and  again  another,  as  the  monk 
pursued  her.  Still  singing  the  same  sweet  song,  the  nightingale 
flew  on  ;  and  the  monk,  entranced  by  the  sound,  followed  her  on 
out  of  the  garden  into  the  wide  world. 

"  At  last  he  stopped,  and  turned  back  to  the  cloister  ;  but  every 
thing  seemed  changed  to  him,  and  every  thing  had  become  larger, 
more  beautiful,  and  older, — the  buildings,  the  garden  ;  and  in  the 
place  of  the  low,  humble  cloister- church,  a  lofty  minster  with  three 
towers  reared  its  head  to  the  sky.  This  seemed  very  strange  to  the 
monk,  indeed  marvellous  ;  but  he  walked  on  to  the  cloister-gate  and 
timidly  rang  the  bell.  A  porter  entirely  unknown  to  him  answered 
his  summons,  and  drew  back  in  amazement  when  he  saw  the  monk. 
The  latter  went  in,  and  wandered  through  the  church,  gazing  with 
astonishment  on  memorial-stones  which  he  never  remembered  to 
have  seen  before.  Presently  the  brethren  of  the  cloister  entered 
the  church  ;  but  all  retreated  when  they  saw  the  strange  figure  of 
the  monk.  The  abbot  only  (but  not  his  abbot)  stopped,  and 
stretching  a  crucifix  before  him,  exclaimed,  '  In  the  name  ot 
Christ,  who  art  thou,  spirit  or  mortal  }  And  what  dost  thou  seek 
here,  coming  from  the  dead  among  us  the  living  V 

"  The  monk,  trembling  and  tottering  like  an  old  man,  cast  his 
eyes  to  the  ground,  and  for  the  first  time  became  aware  that  a  long 
silvery  beard  descended  from  his  chin  over  his  girdle,  to  which  was 
still  suspended  the  key  of  the  library.  To  the  monks  around  the 
stranger  seemed  some  marvellous  appearance  ;  and,  with  a  mixture 
of  awe  and  admiration,  they  led  him  to  the  chair  of  the  abbot. 
There  he  gave  to  a  young  man  the  key  of  the  library,  who  opened 
it,  and  brought  out  a  chronicle  wherein  it  was  written,  that  three 
hundred  years  ago  the  monk  Urban  had  disappeared,  and  no  one 
knew  whither  he  had  gone. 

"  '  Ah,  bird  of  the  forest,  was  it  then  thy  song  ?'  said  the  monk 
Urban,  with  a  sigh ;  '  I  followed  thee  for  scarce  three  minutes, 
hstening  to  thy  notes,  and  yet  three  hundred  years  have  passed 
away  !  Thou  hast  sung  to  me  the  song  of  eternity,  which  I  could 
never  before  learn.  Now  I  know  it ;  and,  dust  iuyself,  1  pray  to 
God  kneeling  in  the  dust.' 

"  With  these  words  he  sank  to  the  ground,  and  his  spirit 
ascended  to  Heaven." 

The  Charm,  equally  attractive  in  its  blue  and  gold  bind- 


470  Illustrated  Books,  « 

ing,  was  first  published  as  a  magazine  for  boys  and  girls,  and 
comprises  stories,  historical  sketches,  poetry,  natural  history, 
and  other  subjects  of  "  information."  The  spirit  in  which  it 
is  written  seems  perfectly  unobjectionable ;  the  stories  have 
a  good  "  purpose  ;"  and  the  historical  sketches  contrast  pleas- 
ingly with  the  ordinary  lying  tales  which  are  palmed  upon  the 
young  mind  as  undoubted  truth.  The  paper  on  St.  Louis  of 
France,  for  instance,  is  a  cordial  eulogy  on  the  saint-king, 
such  as  a  Catholic  might  have  written,  with  only  a  small 
paragraph  of  mild  twaddle  about  persecution,  the  "  one  sad 
sad  stain  on  the  memory  of  this  good  and  great  king."  The 
illustrations  put  to  shame  the  prints  in  many  a  book  not  for 
boys  and  girls.  Some  are  from  Richter's  animated  and  almost 
classical  pencil,  and  engraved  with  a  degree  of  breadth  which 
we  are  glad  to  see  now  gradually  supplanting  the  bewildering 
confusion  of  distance  which  has  long  been  the  bane  of  fashion- 
able wood-cutting.  Quite  equal  in  their  line  are  Harrison 
Weir's  designs.  As  a  painter  of  animals,  this  very  clever 
artist  is  unsurpassed  by  any,  with  the  exception  of  Landseer; 
and  the  delicacy  of  touch  with  which  he  marks  every  part  of 
the  figure,  is  here  faithfully  rendered  by  the  engraver. 

On  the  next  in  our  list.  The  Parables  of  Krummacher,  two 
of  our  best  wood-engravers,  the  Brothers  Dalziel,  have  been 
employed,  the  drawings  being  by  Mr.  Clayton.     Mr.  Clayton 
has  an  eye  for  statuesque  grouping,  which  harmonises  with 
the  peculiar  oneness  of  idea  which  belongs  to  the  parable 
A  little  more  animation  and  movement  would  perhaps  givi 
variety  to  his  designs ;  but  nevertheless,  they  are  such  as  w^ 
never  saw  in  books  in  our  own  childhood.     Krummacher* 
Parables  are  partly  short  episodes  from  the  Bible  narratives 
told  with  free  additions  of  detail  from  the  author's  mind,  con 
ceived  in  a  calm  and  meditative  spirit ;   and  partly  of  shorl 
stories,  or  allegories,  wholly  original,  but  all  with  some  dis< 
tinctly  indicated  moral  in  them.     The  parable  being  Eastern 
rather  than  European,  in*  character,  there  is  necessarily  a  cer- 
tain amount  of  stiffness  and  elaboration  in  such  forms  of  writ- 
ing from  a  German  pen.     Still,  Krummacher's  are  the  best 
we  know  of,  and  possess  an  individuality  and  naturalness  oi 
feeling  which  is  always  attractive.     A  pretty  cover  enclos 
the  present  handsome  edition. 

The  Ice-Kiny  and  the  Sweet  South  Wind,  by  Mrs.  C.  H 
Butler,  appears  to  be  an  American  story-book,  reprinted  in 
this  country.  The  Ice-King  means  ill-humour,  and  the  South 
Wind  good-humour;  and  the  volume  consists  of  some  very 
fair  tales  about  boys  and  girls,  under  the  influence  of  the 
freezing  blast  and  the  genial  gale.     There  are  also  some  lively 


Illustrated  Books*  471 

verses  interspersed.  The  illustrations  have  spirit,  and  as  works 
of  art  are  tolerable. 

TTie  Adventures  of  a  Dog  is  an  amusing  story  about  dogs 
and  "  dogesses,"  chiefly  remarkable  for  its  whimsical  and  mas- 
terly illustrations  by  Harrison  Weir.  The  degree  of  human, 
character  which  this  artist  contrives  to  bestow  upon  his  canine 
creations,  without  the  slightest  loss  of  true  dog-like  identity, 
is  astonishing.  At  the  first  glance,  aided  as  they  are  with  the 
help  of  human  dress,  they  seem  positively  men,  women,  and 
children.  The  old  patriarchal  dog,  telling  his  stories  to  a 
listening  crowd  of  puppies,  and  the  medical  dog,  administer- 
ing physic  or  gruel  to  a  sick  patient  in  bed,  are  really  extra- 
ordinary. One  only  regrets  that  the  juvenile  mind  cannot 
thoroughly  appreciate  the  skill  bestowed  in  the  preparations 
for  its  entertainment. 

The  eleventh  in  our  series,  The  Pictorial  Book  of  Ancient 
Ballad  Poetry,  is  more  worthy  of  notice  for  its  letter-press 
than  for  its  illustrations.  As  a  collection  of  the  old  popular 
poetry  of  England  it  is  very  valuable.  "  Chevy  Chace,"  the 
oldest  known  of  these  singular  relics  of  our  forefathers'  hu- 
mour and  feeling,  dates  as  far  back  as  the  reign  of  Henry  VL, 
and  generally  the  antiquity  of  the  most  famous  of  our  ballads 
is  considerable.  The  description  of  the  priest,  "  all  shaven 
and  shorn,"  assigns  an  ante-Reformation  period  even  to  the 
nursery  song  of  "  The  House  that  Jack  built."  It  is  not  a 
little  curious,  indeed,  to  trace  the  singular  changes  in  manners 
that  four  centuries  have  witnessed  in  the  gradual  modifica- 
tions in  ballad  poetry,  ending  in  its  final  extinction  as  a  wa- 
tional  production.  The  reader  who  has  an  inclination  for 
pursuing  such  a  speculation,  or  who  can  enjoy  the  genial 
heartiness  and  poetic,  though  untamed,  vigour,  which  place 
these  old  poems  in  such  striking  contrast  with  nearly  all 
modern  songs,  will  find  abundant  materials  in  Mr.  Moore's 
collection.  To  the  ancient  ballads  he  has  wisely  added  a 
large  number  of  the  most  successful  modern  imitations  which 
have  employed  the  skill  of  some  of  our  best  poets,  including, 
however,  some  which,  though  very  much  of  the  "ballad"  cast, 
cannot  well  be  called  "imitations."  "John  Gilpin"  and  the 
"  Ancient  Mariner"  are  rather  the  legitimate  successors  of  the 
ancient  ballad  than  imitations  of  its  form.  A  few  translations 
from  foreign  ballads  close  the  volume. 

The  twelfth  on  our  list,  The  Pretty  Plate,  a  book  for  chil- 
dren, has  a  few  graceful  illustrations;  but  we  cannot  recom- 
mend it  as  a  story. 

The  Floivers  from  the  Garden  of  Knowledge  have  less 
pretence  than  some  of  the  works  we  have  already  noticed ;  but 


472  Christian  and  Pagan  Rome, 

they  are  sufficiently  striking  proofs  of  the  care  with  which 
children's  books  are  now  got  up.  The  letter-press  is  rather 
mediocre;  but  the  fancy  and  variety  of  the  prints  is  quite 
remarkable.  Compare  the  frame-work  of  flowers  and  foliage 
with  which  these  cuts  are  surrounded,  with  those  intended,  not 
for  children  of  eight  or  nine  years  old,  but  for  grown-up 
readers  a  quarter  of  a  century  ago.  As  in  the  others  we  have 
noticed,  we  are  glad  to  see  a  very  decided  diminution  in  the 
prices  with  which  publishers  used  to  victimise  the  purchasers 
of  children's  books  of  all  kinds. 

The  last  before  us  is  an  imperial  quarto  volume  of  wood- 
cuts, collected  from  various  illustrated  publications,  and 
printed,  scrap-book  fashion,  with  a  couple  of  rhyming  lines 
to  each.  It  is  really  a  capital  assemblage  of  men,  animals, 
and  scenes.  Some  of  the  cuts  are  excellent, — for  example, 
the  illustrations  of  '*  Old  Mother  Hubbard  ;"  and  the  general 
predominance  of  the  farcical  will  make, the  whole  especially 
welcome  to  the  little  generation,  to  whom  the  "  beautiful"  is 
as  yet  a  thing  unknown. 


CHRISTIAN  AND  PAGAN  ROME. 

The  Pilgrim ;  or,  Truth  and  Beauty  in  Catholic  Lands, 
Burns  and  Lambert,  London  ;  J.  DuiFy,  Dublin  ;  Spain, 
Bristol. 

The  Turkish  Flag.  {A  Thought  in  Verse.)  By  Brinslej 
Norton.     Reynell  and  Weight,  London. 

Love-poetry  has  been  occasionally  attacked  on  the  groun( 
of  its  being  '*  poetry  ready-made  ;"  but  its  popularity  has  nol 
been  much  diminished,  even  by  the  proverbial  difficulty  o\ 
"  gilding  gold,"  or  adding  "  a  perfume  to  the  violet."  Tl 
author  of  The  Pilgrim  need,  therefore,  not  feel  much  anxiety 
if  a  similar  exception  should  be  taken  against  that  poem. 
The  simple  statement,  that  it  is  a  poem  descriptive  of  Chris- 
tian Rome,  and  of  the  most  Catholic  passages,  whether  of 
nature  or  art,  with  which  the  devout  traveller  becomes  ac- 
quainted on  his  way  to  and  from  the  great  Christian  centre, 
makes  it  obvious  that  its  subject  is  the  most  poetical,  in  one 
sense,  that  exists.  Such  a  subject,  it  may  be  said,  is  itself 
poetry,  and  hardly  admits  of  adornment.  The  author  has 
been  aware  of  this,  and  has,  with  as  much  critical  skill  as 
poetic  feeling,  sought  for  poetic  effect,  not  from  trope  or 
metaphor,    or   whatever  may  be    called    the    "  furniture  of 


Christian  and  Pagan  Rome.  ^7S 

poetry,"  but  from  a  wise  selection  and  a  graphic  description. 
Nature  and  grace  have  combined  to  furnish  the  materials  of 
her  poem  ;  and  her  task  has  been  that  of  rightly  adapting  such 
materials  to  a  purpose  at  once  poetic  and  religious.  This  has 
been  done  with  ability  and  with  reverence.  The  imagination 
and  the  heart  have  worked  together:  the  latter  has  supplied 
the  key  to  that  world  of  spiritual  beauty  and  truth  which  so 
many  pass  coldly  by  ;  and  the  former  has  illustrated  with  the 
vivid  touches  of  poetry  scenes  which  whoever  has  but  in 
part  appreciated  them,  will  wish  to  grave  upon  his  memory. 
We  noticed  the  first  part  of  the  work  as  soon  as  it  appeared : 
a  second  and  third  part  complete  the  poem,  and  do  more  than 
justice  to  the  anticipations  which  we  then  expressed. 

We  rejoin  the  Pilgrim  in  Rome.  At  the  threshold  of 
the  Apostles  she  has  laid  down  the  burden  of  false  liberty, 
and  found  instead  that  "  glorious  liberty,"  of  which  Divine 
Truth  is  the  seal.  'Like  other  returning  prodigals,  she  has 
found  reality  and  certainty  where  previously  she  had  been 
playing  with  spiritual  ideas  and  devout  associations,  till,  but 
for  that  supernatural  grace  which  is  the  secret  of  conversion, 
it  seemed  impossible  to  distinguish  between  shadows  and  sub- 
stances. She  has  returned  again  to  the  one  "  Church  of  our 
Baptism,"  to  which  every  one  validly  baptised  has  once  be- 
longed; and  she  has  renounced  that  most  foreign  of  all  foreign 
allegiances  —  the  subjection  to  the  civil  power  of  Christ's 
Church,  or  that  which  claims  the  name.  She  has  been  ac- 
cused of  disloyalty,  because  she  has  returned  to  that  Church 
which  is  the  mother  and  head  of  Christendom,  and  to  the 
"rock"  from  which  all  alike  acknowledge  that  the  Christianity 
of  the  Anglo-Saxon  race  "  was  hewn  :"  but  the  fatted  calf 
has  been  killed,  and  the  robe  and  ring  given.  On  such  occa- 
sions, amid  the  discords  of  a  perverse  world,  alarmed  at  it 
knows  not  what,  and  incensed  where  there  is  cause  but  for 
joy,  a  gratulating  music  is  heard  which  combines  the  festive 
rejoicing  of  the  Church  below  with  the  jubilee  of  those  angels 
who  rejoice  over  one  sinner  that  repents.  Every  one  must 
have  remarked  how  a  sudden  strain  of  music  brightens  the 
landscape  at  which  we  gaze.  It  is  no  wonder  that  the  facul- 
ties newly  roused  in  the  Pilgrim — faculties  which  waken  not 
only  "  amid  the  music  of  loftier  thoughts,"  but  amid  the 
celestial  strains  of  services  never  before  intelligible — should 
sharpen  the  spiritual  discernment  of  faith  itself,  and  cause  it 
to  descry  in  the  objects  presented  to  it  much  of  which  the 
ordinary  Catholic  is  often  deprived  by  dulness  or  by  habit. 
She  is  edified  by  the  Presepio  of  Christmas,  as  well  as  by 
the  Sepulchres  of  Good  Friday.     She  kisses  the  relics  of  that 


474  Christian  and  Pagan  Rome, 

arm  which  Becket  raised  to  defend  the  Church  which  Craiimer 
betrayed.  She  is  no  more  dis-edified  by  the  benediction  of 
the  horses  on  St.  Antony's  day,  than  an  English  farmer  is 
dis-edified  when,  at  special  seasons,  a  blessing  is  publicly  in- 
voked, with  religious  and  parliamentary  rites,  on  his  crops,  or 
when  the  meat  is  "  blessed"  at  his  board.  When  the  shep- 
herds of  the  Abruzzi,  during  the  days  that  precede  Christ- 
mas, leave  their  native  mountains,  take  their  stand  before  the 
image  of  Our  Lady  at  the  corner  of  the  street,  or  in  wayside 
cells,  and  on  their  "  grating  pipes"  sing  gratulating  hymns 
to  her  whom  all  successive  generations  call  '*  blessed,"  the 
Pilgrim  is  no  more  scandalised  than  a  British  statesman, 
averse  to  mummeries,  would  be  by  an  anniversary  dinner  in 
honour  of  a  departed  hero.  The  Chair  of  St.  Peter,  lifted 
high  in  the  cathedral  which  guards  his  bones,  and 
**  Watch'd  by  the  Church's  four  great  Doctors," 
seems  to  her,  though  vacant,  a  spectacle  as  interesting  as  that 
of  the  vacant  throne  to  which  peers  do  obeisance  in  the 
House  of  Lords.  The  altar  before  which,  in  the  Church  of 
St.  Andrea  delle  Fratte,  a  Jew  was,  but  a  dozen  years  ago, 
converted  to  Christianity  by  the  Blessed  Virgin  herself  who 
suddenly  appeared  to  him,  she  regards  with  more  reverence 
than  the  Swiss  regard  the  platform  and  chapel  of  Tell ;  nor 
do  the  Salvian  fountains,  near  the  spot  on  which  St.  Paul  suf- 
fered, seem  to  her  more  "legendary"  than  the  three  foun- 
tains of  Grubli,  still  shown,  where  the  three  deliverers  o 
Switzerland  took  counsel  together  by  night.  The  symbolica 
tapers  of  Candlemas  seem  to  her  no  more  childish  than  the 
lighted  candles  held  by  a  subject  who  receives  his  sovereigi 
as  a  guest.  In  short,  our  Pilgrim  has  become  a  Catholic,  an( 
wanders  forth  through  the  great  Christian  metropolis,  not  t< 
criticise,  but  to  admire,  venerate,  and  be  edified.  She  secj 
what  is  before  her,  and  she  will  teach  many  others  to  see  it 
though  doubtless  much  more  cleverness  is  often  shown  by  noi 
seeing  what  is  plain.  The  following  extract  will  have  a  spe 
cial  interest  for  the  English  reader  at  the  present  day : 

Th^  Apostle  of  England. 
''  Steep  is  the  path  which  mounts  the  Coelian  hill, 
And  high  the  convent  walls  on  either  side. 
The  Pilgrim  paused  in  the  ascent  to  gaze 
Upon  the  Palatine  :  the  ruins  stood 
In  the  sweet  sunshine  of  the  early  spring, 
Cold,  as  it  seem'd,  in  death,  while  all  around 
Was  life  and  hope ;   the  rosy  almond  bloom'd, 
And  the  white  cherry  strove  in  vain  to  clothe 
Those  palaces  with  splendour  like  the  past. 
It  seem'd  that  soldiers  of  the  middle  age 


Christian  and  Pagan  Rome,  4il5 

Built  San  Giovanni,  like  a  castle  strong ; 

Now  Gothic  splendour  too  is  past  away  : 

But  there  was  bustle  at  the  convent  door, 

Menials  and  horses,  equipages  mix'd, 

Jostling  with  beggars,  ever  garrulous  ; 

The  scent  of  incense  was  upon  the  air, 

And  fluttering  hangings,  red  and  white,  and  lights 

Glared  from  within,  and  flowers  and  evergreens, 

And  all  the  festal  pomp  and  circumstance. 

She  enter'd  'mid  the  crowd  of  worshippers : 

Befoi-e  the  altar  of  Saints  John  and  Paul, 

Where  lie  their  bodies,  urn'd  in  porphyry, 

A  Cardinal  in  all  his  purples  knelt, 

Beside  the  student  and  the  cassock'd  priest, 

Some  prostrate,  some  were  kneeling  at  the  vault 

In  the  mid  nave,  where  dwelt  those  early  saints — 

Their  home  and  then  their  place  of  martyrdom. 

Such  faith  was  theirs !  she  thought,  and  mounted  slow 

The  flights  of  stairs  and  triple  terraces 

Below  St.  Gregory's;  the  wide-flung  doors 

Show'd,  kneeling  at  the  altar  of  the  saint. 

Lines  of  Camaldolese,  who  bore  the  cross 

And  chanted  litanies  :  the  chorus  sweet 

Swell'd  down  the  nave,  and  from  the  lofty  porch 

*  Ora  pro  nobis'  reach'd  the  Palatine  ; 
The  palace  of  the  Cossars  echo'd  back 
The  mighty  'Libera  nos,  Domine.' 

*  «  *  *  « 

The  monk  led  on, — 
He  show'd  St.  Silvia's  chapel,  named  from  her 
Who  train'd  the  holy  childhood  of  her  son. 
And  so  herself  was  canonised ;  he  show'd 
Another  chapel  on  that  terraced  height, 
St.  Barbara's,  where  yet  the  table  stands 
On  which  St.  Gregory  at  supper  served 
The  poor  of  Christ.     For  twelve  the  board  was  spread, 
Another  and  a  Greater  came  unask'd  : 
The  sainted  Pope  was  frescoed  on  the  walls, 
Sending  with  power  Augustin  forth  to  preach 
Salvation  to  the  savage  islanders; 
And  how  he  landed  on  the  English  shore. 
And  won  to  grace  the  heathen  Ethelbert. 
The  Pilgrim's  thoughts  were  of  her  distant  home, 
While  in  that  garden-plot  of  hedgerows  green 
She  stood  to  look  upon  the  calm  grey  eve ; 
The  birds  were  singing  in  the  budding  trees. 
And  perfumes  rose  from  avenues  of  limes, 
As  the  dews  fell  on  the  Gregorian  Way." 

Our  next  quotation  shall  be  from  a  passage  illustrating 
that  problem,  which,  more  perhaps  than  any  other,  forces 
itself  on  the  attention  of  the  thoughtful  traveller.  Elsewhere 
it  is  possible  to  forget  the  connexion  between  sacred  and 
pagan  Rome:  at  Rome  it  is  impossible  to  overlook  it;  and, 
in  revolving  it,  we  learn  the  relations  between  the  Church 


476  Christian  and  Pagan  Rome, 

and  the   nations, — between   the  kingdom  of  Christ  and  the 
kingdoms  of  this  world, — between  history  previous  to  Chris- 
tianity and  subsequent   to  it.      In  pagan  Rome,  the  power 
that  is  not  Divine  was  permitted  to  put  forth  the  very  utmost 
of  its  might  and  majesty.     The  last  of  the  great  empires,  it 
absorbed  into  itself,  not  only  the    territories,   but   the    cha- 
racteristics of  all ;  and  it  crowned  them  with  an  intellectual 
and  moral  strength  specially  its  own.     All  the.  wealth  of  the 
Babylonian  and  Assyrian  empires,  as  well  as  of  the  Carthagi- 
nian, sent  their  golden  tides  up  the  Tiber.     The  science  and 
art   of  Greece   had  been   transplanted  to  Italy  ;  and  though 
they  did  not  flourish  as  in  their  native  soil,  they  put  forth  as 
stately  growths  as  will  consent  to  expand  beneath  the  shadow 
of  despotic  power.     The  chivalry  of  ancient  Persia,  and  even 
the  indomitable  energy  of  the   Parthian,  were  petty  things 
when  measured  by  the  onset  of  the  Roman  legion.     The  Me- 
diterranean had  become  a  Roman  lake  ;  and  the  three  conti- 
nents of  the  old  world,  pierced  through  by  the  Roman  roads, 
and  yoked    together  by   the    chains,   never   yet    severed,   of 
Roman  law,   constituted  an  empire  that  knew   no  national 
name,  as  it  acknowledged  no  nationalities  ;  an  empire,   the 
circumference  of  which  was,  like  the  horizon,  an  imaginary 
and  ever-expanding  line  ;  but  of  which  the  fixed  centre  was 
the  "  Urbs  Roma."     This  marvellous  empire,   if  its  natun 
and  its  law  forbad  it  to  recognise  the  claims  of  aught  externa 
to  itself,  aspired  at  least  to  impart  its  own  greatness  to  what 
ever  clothed  itself  with  the  Roman  name.    To  each  conquere( 
city   it  gave  municipal  freedom  ;  and,  on   certain  conditionsf 
the  emancipated  bondsman  of  a  remote  and  petty  tribe  migh 
claim  Roman  citizenship,  and  lay  his  hand  upon  the  sceptr< 
that  swayed  the  world.     The  greatest  of  empires  had  beei 
the   slow  result  of  the  greatest  and  most  continuous  exercisi 
of  whatever  in  man  is  most  heroic — courage,  ability,  practica 
sense,  domestic  virtue,  social  probity,  patriotism,  self-control 
These  qualities  "  verily  have  their  reward"    in    this  world 
and  that,  notwithstanding  the  admixture  of  qualities  —  ambi' 
tion,  recklessness,  cruelty — the  reward  of  which  is  of  a  dif- 
ferent nature,  and  is,  in  part,  reserved  for  a  future  life.     Ir 
Rome,  then,  this  earth  was  permitted   to  manifest  the  verj 
utmost  of  what  it  could  do.     But  vast  as  its  projects  werCj 
they  were  mundane  still ;  and  all-embracing  as  was  that  civi- 
lisation which  compassed,  and  in  no  small  degree  elevated,  the 
various  races  of  man,  it  was  still  but  a  terrestrial  civilisation, 
Under   these   circumstances,  to  be  greatest  is,  in  one   sense, 
to  be  worst.     Civilisation,  deflected  from  a  spiritual  aim,  \i 
but  barbarism  made  respectable,  and  confusion  methodised* 


Christian  and  Pagan  Rome,  477 

Pagan  Rome,  therefore,  was  Babylon  restored,  consummated, 
and  subjecting  to  itself  the  whole  of  oecumenical  earth ;  and 
for  that  reason  it  was  selected  as  the  spot  upon  which  the 
kingdom  of  God  was  to  have  also  its  visible  centre.  Jerusa- 
lem was  to  triumph  where  Babel  had  triumphed  ;  and  the 
sceptre  of  righteousness  was  to  be  lifted  on  high  on  the  spot 
where  the  prince  of  this  world  had  had  his  chief  day  of  domi- 
nation; and  from  which,  the  blind  drudge  of  Providence,  he 
had  prepared  the  way  of  his  Destroyer,  and  ploughed  the  fields 
which  a  mightier  Husbandman  was  to  sow  and  reap.  It  is  in 
this  sense  that  the  Fathers  apply  to  pagan  Rome  that  title  of 
Babylon,  which  some  Protestant  controversialists  have,  with  a 
blindness  or  an  unfairness  astounding  even  in  the  annals  of 
heresy,  affirmed  that  they  applied  to  Rome  in  their  own 
sense ;  though  the  very  same  Fathers  attest  the  superior  emi- 
nence among  the  Churches  possessed  by  Christian  Rome,  and 
bear  witness  to  the  special  prerogatives  possessed  by  Peter,  its 
first  bishop.  The  force  of  prejudice  can,  perhaps,  go  no  fur- 
ther than  in  thus  confounding  Rome  the  Persecutor  and 
Rome  the  Persecuted.  The  Roman  civilisation  embraced 
and  licensed  all  religions  except  one,  as  to  a  certain  extent 
the  public  opinion  of  England  may  be  said  to  do.  Against 
that  one  it  waged  a  chronic  warfare  of  hatred  and  scorn,  and 
an  intermittent  warfare  of  persecution,  on  the  ground  that 
that  religion  alone  was  a  conspiracy, — was  the  tyrant  of  the 
hearth,  and  the  rival  of  the  civil  power, — was  blasphemous  in 
its  pretensions,  magical  in  its  rites,  secret  in  its  organisation, 
remorseless  in  its  asceticism,  pitiless  to  kith  and  kin,  nay,  to 
self,  and  intolerable  from  its  exclusiveness.  That  religion  was 
not  allowed  to  live  in  the  open  air.  It  descended,  therefore, 
to  the  catacombs ;  and  thence,  when  three  centuries  had. 
passed  as  the  flight  of  three  days,  it  rose  again  with  the 
banner  of  salvation,  and  seated  itself  on  a  throne,  of  which 
all  the  mutations  of  the  world  from  the  time  that  the  first  city 
was  built,  and  all  the  vices  and  virtues  of  mankind,  had  been 
consciously  or  unconsciously,  meritoriously  or  by  servile  ne- 
cessity, collecting  the  materials.  But,  till  that  hour  had 
sounded,  and  the  fountains  of  the  great  deep,  broken  open,  had 
submerged  the  triumphs  of  impiety,  the  Christian  worship^ 
alone  refused,  and  was  refused,  a  place  in  the  Roman  Pan- 
theon. Promiscuousness  is  not  charity ;  nor  is  it  a  mother 
alone  that  opens  her  arms  at  all  times  and  to  all.  The 
temple  that  welcomed  all  gods  was  the  temple  of  Established. 
Unbelief;  and  the  Christian  refused  to  enter  it.  His  temple 
was  the  Coliseum,  not  the  Pantheon.  As  he  looked  round 
him  there,  he  beheld,  not  the  statued  gods  of  every  land  and 


478  Christian  and  Pagan  Rome, 

clime,  "but  the  Nubian  lion,  the  tiger  of  Mauritania,  and  ele- 
phants as  broad  as  any  that  have  ever,  with  the  standard  and 
presented  arms  of  England,  assisted  at  the  procession  of  Ju"*- 
gernaut's  chariot.  In  that  place,  he  who  cruelly,  perversely, 
and  contumaciously,  refused  even  to  scatter  a  few  grains  of 
incense,  at  the  command  of  the  prastor,  on  the  sacrifice 
which  the  Dea  Roma  required,  offered  up  the  sacrifice  of 
himself  (where  he  was  not  permitted  to  offer  a  holier  sacrifice) 
to  the  God  of  Truth.  The  thought  of  another  suffering 
made  his  seem  easy ;  and  within  that  circuit  was  shed  that 
blood  of  martyrdom  which,  from  the  time  of  St.  Stephen  to 
that  of  the  Polish  nuns,  has  ever  proved  the  seed  of  the 
Church.  Central  in  the  Coliseum  stands  the  Cross,  which,  by 
consecrating  the  building,  has  made  a  ruin  an  eternal  monu- 
ment. Round  the  lowest  range  of  seats,  from  which  the 
"  senate  and  people"  of  Rome  looked  down  upon  sports 
which  custom  had  made  easy  to  them,  are  now  ranged  the 
pictured  stations  of  our  Lord's  Passion  ;  and  once  in  every 
week,  on  that  penitential  day  which  renews  the  memory  of 
Calvary,  they  are  visited  by  the  procession  of  the  "  Via 
Crucis."  A  spot  only  less  sacred  than  that  which  enshrines 
the  relics  of  the  Apostles,  could  not  be  looked  on  coldly 
by  the  Pilgrim ;  nor  could  the  most  elaborate  description  of 
it  add  to  the  pathos  or  significance  of  the  scene. 

**  Who  may  be  those  who  in  procession  walk, 
So  closely  veil'd,  along  the  Sacred  Way, 
With  step  untutor'd  by  monastic  rule, 
Yet  stay'd  by  some  firm  purpose  ?     These  are  call'd 

*  Lovers  of  Jesus  and  of  Mary,'  bound 
To  visit  on  the  day  their  Saviour  died 
The  several  Stations  of  His  Agony, 
The  Via  Crucis;  and  as  though  they  trod 
The  distant  hills  of  Calvary,  the  Church 
Accepts  and  overpays  the  exercise. 
The  Cross  precedes  them  through  the  darksome  vault 
Between  the  Coliseum  and  the  world ; 
Each  prints  a  kiss  upon  the  Cross  which  stamps 
On  either  side  the  entrance ;  and  again, 
Before  the  Cross,  whose  arms  midway  divide 
The  amphitheatre,  they  kneel  again, 
And  seek  indulgence  by  a  reverent  kiss. 
Then  voices  murmur,  *  Lord,  in  sorrowing  love, 
In  penitent  and  grateful  love,  we  ask 
Mercy  on  earth,  and  endless  bliss  in  heaven.' 
A  single  voice  sings  then  in  that  sweet  tongue 
Framed  to  express  the  feelings  of  the  heart, 

*  The  bloody  footsteps  of  my  Lord  I  tread ;' 
So  ran  the  verse  at  intervals,  and  still 
The  chorus  full  at  every  Station  sang, 


Christian  arid  Pagan  Rome,  479 

*  Sweet  Jesus,  by  Thy  Passion  give  us  peace,' 
The  Cross  still  moving  as  they  walk'd,  and  sang 
The  *  Stabat  Mater,'  mournfullest  lament 

That  ever  told  a  grieving  Mother's  woe. 
And  at  each  Station  lamentations  rose, 
Accents  of  pity,  mix'd  with  penitence, 
As  each  sad  scene  awoke  a  deeper  woe ; 
Prostrate  at  each  fresh  agony,  they  cried, 

*  Thee  we  adore  and  bless,  for  by  Thy  Cross, 

O  Christ,  Thou  hast  redeem'd  the  guilty  world.' 
It  seem'd  as  grief  had  quench'd  the  very  life 
With  that  deep  '  Miserere  nostri/     No  : 
The  Cross  was  borne  aloft,  the  chorus  full 
Echoed  around  the  amphitheatre, 
'  Hail,  Holy  Cross  !  and  He  who  bore  it,  hail  V 
Long  from  the  slow  procession  rose  the  notes  ; 
Returning  still  from  Trajan's  massive  arch, 
And  from  the  Via  Sacra,  echoed  faint, 

*  Hail,  Holy  Cross!  and  He  who  bore  it,  hail !'  " 

There  are,  even  at  Rome,  few  objects  of  a  more  touching 
interest  than  those  countless  processions  which  date  from  tlie 
earliest  period,  and  which  the  traveller  sometimes  supposes  to 
be  got  up  chiefly  for  his  amusement.  Where  solitude  is  most 
prized,  and  the  eremite  is  held  in  veneration,  there  also  society 
seems  most  to  cast  off  what  is  gregarious  merely,  and  most 
naturally  to  shape  itself  in  the  moulds  of  beauty  and  order. 
Discipline,  and  consequently  symmetry,  are  in  the  South  an 
instinct,  as  much  as  a  law,  notwithstanding  those  irregular 
sallies  of  passion  which  militate  against  them.  It  is  not  won- 
derful, that  in  a  city  the  very  soul  of  which  is  worship,  the 
streets  as  well  as  the  churches  should  be  consecrated  by  pro- 
cessions following  the  Cross.  The  Roman  processions  are 
living  traditions  symbolising  that  marvellous  historical  exist- 
ence of  the  Church,  by  which,  as  generation  is  linked  to  gene- 
ration, so  truth  is  linked  to  truth,  and  usage  to  usage. 

In  all  parts  of  Rome  you  meet  them.  Now  it  is  the  dark 
procession  of  the  Capuchins,  as,  bearinof  torches  and  chanting 
the  penitential  Psalms,  they  carry  the  dead  to  his  place  of  feSt. 
Now  it  is  a  procession  of  girls  covered  with  white  veils,  and 
ascending  the  steps  of  the  church  in  which  they  are  to  receive 
their  first  communion.  The  day  has  been  looked  forward  to 
with  as  sanguine  a  hope  as  a  bridal  day,  and  chaplets  abun- 
<lant  enough  for  many  bridals  strew  the  way.  The  procession 
is  now  one  of  students,  now  one  of  monks ;  and  in  each  case 
the  peaceful  ensigns  which  they  bear  before  them  reveal,  as 
they  catch  the  brighter  lights  of  morning  or  evening,  a  history 
far  more  ancient  than  those  commemorated  by  the  standards 
of  war.     Of  these  processions,  none  are  more  interesting  than 

VOL.  I. — NEW  SERIES,  L  L 


480  Christian  and  Pagan  Rome, 

those  so  constantly  witnessed  by  the  venerable  Basilica  which 
guards  the  relics  of  the  Holy  Cross,  the  precious  gift  of  St. 
Helena.  To  an  Englishman  who  remembers  that  she  who  re- 
discovered that  Cross,  concealed  for  so  many  years  beneath 
the  soil  of  Calvary,  was  not  only  the  mother  of  the  first  Chris- 
tian emperor,  but  also  was  of  British  race,  the  patriarchal 
church  of  Santa  Croce  is  a  happy  omen  for  the  future,  as 
well  as  a  glorious  memorial  of  the  past.  The  processions 
which  unwind  their  endless  gyres  in  its  neighbourhood,  catch 
also  a  specially  picturesque  character  from  the  rural  scenery 
through  which  they  pass.  "  The  hills  stand  around  Jerusa- 
lem :" — it  is  thus  that  the  great  Roman  Basilicas,  in  place  ol 
occupying  a  central  position,  stand  around  the  Jerusalem  of 
the  new  law,  guarding  its  gates,  and  sanctifying  the  roads  that 
approach  it.  Owing  to  this  circumstance,  far  the  larger  part 
of  that  triangle  which  lies  between  the  Basilicas  of  Santa 
Maria  Maggiore,  San  Giovanni  Laterano,  and  Santa  Croce,  is 
carpeted  with  grass,  and  shadowed  by  groves  and  thickets. 
The  ceremonials  which  take  place  witliin  that  space  combine, 
in  a  singular  manner,  ecclesiastical  solemnities  with  the  "  boOti 
grace  of  nature"  and  rural  festivity.  Both  characteristics  arc 
brought  out  by  the  Pilgrim's  description  ; 

"  A  Crucifix  precedes  the  ghastly  hoods 
Of  those  who  cast  aside  the  noble's  garb, 
To  join  unnoticed  the  procession.     X^eiled 
Beneath  a  cerement-cloth  of  white,  advance 
Fair  Roman  ladies,  chanting,  as  they  walk, 
The  solemn  '  Miserere;'  kneeling  then, 
Each  voice  entones  the  Litany  ;  they  chant 
*  Ora  pro  nobis'  in  the  chorus  full. 
Slow  they  return  :  the  '  De  profundis'  swells. 
Down  the  long  line  ;  the  '  Requiescat'  falls 
More  distant  on  the  ear. 

There  enclosed 

"  ^.c.jiuus  casKet,  IS  a  tnom,  «  I?"'^^  » 
Tlie  very  superscription  of  the  Cross, 
The  Cross  itself.     And^  at  the  awful  sight, 
Down  bows  each  head,  each  knee  upon  the  ground 
Does  homage  to  the  Lord  who  hallowed  it ; 
And  then  with  quick  revulsion,  joy  inspired 
The  crowd  departing  ;  horses  pranced  along, 
And  rushing  wheels  divided  the  gay  groups  : 
Some  to  the  Lateran  turned,  where  shadows  long- 
Lay  on  the  turf;  some  trod  the  long  straight  road,. 
At  whose  extremity  St.  Mary's  spires 
Looked  small  in  the  blue  distance.     Walls  and  trees 
And  grass,  in  lessening  lines  receding  still, 
And  ruins  vast,  and  mountains  azure  deep, 
And  fountains,  streets,  and  convents;  till  expands 


Christian  and  Pagan  Rome.  481 

At  once  the  glorious  sunset  from  the  hrow 
Of  the  old  Pincian  :  dusky  domes  on  domes, 
Each  rising  behind  each  ;   St.  Peter's  last  ; 
And  on  the  furthest  hill  one  single  pine. 
Dark  in  the  ruddy  heavens,  where  brighter  gold 
Yet  marks  the  path  down  which  the  setting  sun 
Rolls  his  swift  wheels  into  the  burning  west." 

The  merit  of  the  Pilgrim  is  of  an  order  not  easily  illus- 
trated by  quotations,  consisting  less  in  the  power  of  particular 
passages  than  in  the  fidelity  and  saliency  with  which,  as  a 
whole,  it  represents  Catholicity  in  connexion  with  what  is 
most  worthy  of  note  in  nature  and  art,  and  with  those  tradi- 
tional manners  which  owe  their  existence  to  Catholicity.  In 
such  a  work,  selection  and  appreciation  are  all  in  all.  The 
writer  must  iiave  an  eye  capable  of  seeing  what  is  characteris- 
tic, and  must  pass  unnoticed  much  which,  though  striking, 
would  tend  rather  to  bewilder  the  reader  than  to  deepen  the 
impression  he  wishes  to  convey.  The  success  of  the  work 
before  us  in  this  respect  is  complete.  It  is  utterly  unlike 
the  hundred-and-one  guide-books,  in  prose  and  verse,  with 
which  the  traveller  has  been  beset  for  so  many  years,  and  in 
which  he  is  challenged,  within  the  compass  of  a  page,  to  sym- 
pathise with  a  mass  of  heterogeneous  interests  mutually  at 
war.  He  is  to  be  at  one  moment  a  Pagan,  and  the  next  a 
Christian  ;  now  to  venerate  St.  Peter's  confession,  and  now  to 
complain  because  *'  apostolic  statues  climb"  till  they  have 
surmounted  the  columns  of  Trajan  and  Antonine,  and  thus 
"  crush  the  imperial  urn  whose  ashes  sleep  sublime."  He  is 
at  one  moment  to  indulge  in  a  little  enthusiasm  about  the 
catacombs,  and  the  next  to  indulge  in  twice  as  much  because 
the  tomb  of  an  Etrurian  king  has  been  dug  up.  He  is  to  pass 
judgment  on  half  the  pontiffs  of  the  Church  since  the  time  of 
St.  Peter;  and  again,  in  an  exceptional  sentence,  to  canonise 
one  of  them  who  has  attempted  to  drain  the  Pontine  marshes, 
or  who  has  cleared  away  the  soil  about  a  buried  pillar  in  the 
Forum.  He  is  to  be  equally  enraptured  about  some  third- 
class  Venus  of  antiquity  and  about  Raffaelle's  Transfigura- 
tion. He  is  to  protest  against  the  narrow-mindedness  of 
those  who  are  attached  to  that  great  artist's  "  prima  maniera," 
but  at  the  same  time  to  lament  that  his  *'  Fornarina"  had 
round  eyes  instead  of  those  long,  almond-shaped  eyes,  so 
much  more  favourable  to  the  expression  of  devotion.  He  is 
to  feel  admiration  for  St.  Bruno,  from  the  moment  that  he 
has  seen  the  great  Carthusian  church,  and  that  statue  which 
"  would  speak,  but  that  the  rule  of  its  Order  forbids ;"  with 
the  contemplative  legislator  of  an  earlier  time,  Numa,  he  is  to 


482  Christian  and  Pagan  Rome, 

sympathise  in  exactly  the  same  proportion ;  nor  is  he  to  be 
wholly  out  of  sympathy  with  the  red-coated  sportsmen  of 
England,  who,  after  a  day's  hunt  on  the  Campagna,  water 
their  horses  at  the  fountain  of  Egeria.  He  is  to  canonise  the 
unknown  Cecilia  Metella,  and  to  account  St.  Cecilia  apocry- 
phal, or  vice  versa,  just  as  happens.  From  the  chamber 
where  conversed  St.  Dominick  and  St.  Francis,  the  medieval 
apostles  of  divine  knowledge  and  divine  love,  he  is  to  wander 
to  the  churchyard  which  enshrines  the  tombs  of  two  unbeliev- 
ing poets,  and  on  each  occasion  to  indulge  in  a  little  hero- 
worship.  He  is  to  revere  the  religious  aspect  of  the  city,  but 
to  condemn  as  superstitious  almost  every  thing  that  stamps 
that  character  upon  it.  It  is  no  wonder  that  those  whose  im- 
pressions of  Rome  are  formed  in  the  modern  schools  of  dilet- 
tantism, should,  ere  a  month  has  passed,  feel  their  head  go 
round  like  the  head  of  a  dancing  dervise.  No  better  remedy  can 
be  found  than  in  a  book  such  as  The  Pilgrimy  in  which  the 
descriptions  are  in  harmony  with  each  other,  because  taken 
from  a  single,  and  that  a  commanding  point  of  view. 

That  point  of  view  is  of  course  a  Christian  one.     Holding 
the  doctrine  of  the  Sacraments,  the  Pilgrim  is  not  unprepared 
to  find  the  inward  exhibited  by  the  outward,  things  spiritual 
by  material  objects.     To  her,  accordingly,  the  metropolis  of 
Christendom  is  an  image  of  the  Church,  in  the  same  sense  as 
Jerusalem  would  have  been  an  exponent  of  Judaism,  or  Pagan 
Rome  of  the  glories  of  this  world.     Throughout  it  she  fine 
the  triumphs  of  meekness  and  charity  in  conjunction  with  tl 
sterner  memorials  of  an  ever-militant  faith.     Rome  is  the  hij 
tory  of  the  Church  written  in  stone.     From  the  subterranea^ 
catacombs  in  which  the  twenty-eight  martyred  popes  of  thj 
first  three  centuries  said  Mass,  to  the  cross  that  crowns  Sf 
Peter's,  every  stone  bears  *'  the  marks  of  Christ."     It  illus 
trates  Christianity  in  every  relation ;  and  if  it  does  not  siril 
the  beholder  at  first  sight  as  much  as  he  had  expected,  tht 
very  circumstance  results  from  the  fact,  that  it  is** all  gloi 
ous  within,"  and  that  its  message  is  not  to  the  outward  ey( 
but  to  the  eye  illumined  by  faith.     In  many  instances  a  small 
church,  centuries  old,  but  of  which  the  exterior  has  never  yet 
been  finished,  contains  within  it  gems  and  marbles  rich  enough 
to  have  built  cathedrals, — inscriptions  and  monuments  o^  a 
higher  value  still,  and  relics  compared  with  which  the  mines 
of  history  and  the  golden  mine  are  alike  valueless.    In  RomCj 
time  remits  his  sway.    The  lamps  which  burn  before  the  con 
fession  of  apostle  and  martyr  have  burned  there  for  a  thoi 
sand  years  and  more ;  and  the  relics  to  which  St.  Augusti 
appealed  with  confidence  have  cured  the  cripple  of  yesterday 


Christian  and  Pagan  Rome,  483 

and  excited  the  scorn  of  those  who  would  have  scorned  tliem 
fifteen  hundred  years  since.  The  "  Tu  es  Petrus,"  traced  in 
characters  of  gold  round  the  firmamental  dome  of  the  Vatican 
Basilica,  seems  but  a  reverberation  from  those  days  when  the 
artists  who  delineated  Moses  striking  the  rock  on  the  dim 
walls  of  the  catacombs  represented  him  with  the  sacred  keys 
at  his  girdle,  and  traced  the  word  "  Petrus"  beneath  him,  in 
confession  that  Moses  was  the  Peter  of  the  ancient  law,  and 
that  the  Rock  of  whom  all  drank  was  Christ.  The  Madonnas 
that  consecrate  the  glittering  apse  of  medieval  or  modern 
church  differ  but  in  attitude  from  the  Madonnas  of  the  cata- 
combs, who  extend  their  arms  in  prayer  while  the  Church 
combats  for  the  faith.  This  the  Pilgrim  perceives ;  and  her 
enthusiasm  is  therefore  no  more  that  of  an  antiquarian  than 
that  of  a  mere  artist.  She  is  as  much  edified  by  the  last  vo- 
tive ofifering  that  commemorates  a  granted  prayer,  as  by  the 
architectural  offerings  of  a  Constantine,  or  the  monuments  of 
a  Theodosius.  It  is  with  space  as  with  time  :  her  sympathies 
are  Catholic ;  and  when,  on  the  feast  of  the  Epiphany,  she 
hears  the  Greek  and  Armenian  rites,  she  sees  but  the  multi- 
form variety  of  that  faith  which  "  is  uniform,  but  manifold 
her  form."  An  open  heart,  as  well  as  an  open  eye,  makes 
her  descry  the  popular  and  charitable  character  of  institutions 
by  many  classed  among  the  arts  of  luxury ;  and  she  exclaims, 

"  O  blessed  poor!  the  splendour  of  the  church  ! 
The  joy  of  all  her  festivals  is  yours ; 
For  you  the  painter  all  his  art  exhausts ; 
You  see  the  gorgeous  altar ;  you  approach, 
And  none  forbids  you,  in  your  Father's  house. 
Yours  was  the  blessing  of  the  Son  of  Man  ; 
Yours  is  the  promise  too,  O  happy  poor!" 

Art  is,  in  The  Pilgrim,  ever  viewed  in  its  connexion  with 
faith,  and  regarded  as  one  of  the  queen's  daughters  by  whom 
Religion  is  surrounded,  who  watch  her  hand,  and  obey  her 
slightest  behest.  In  this  devotion  to  *  Christian  art/  how- 
ever, there  is  nothing  narrow.  On  the  contrary,  it  is  always 
insisted  on,  that  all  the  genuine  forms  of  art  are  christianised 
by  a  Christian  spirit,  and  have  their  place  in  the  treasure- 
house  of  her  who  was  not  only  to  "  enlarge  the  former  nar- 
row bounds"  with  arts  unknown  before,  but  also  to  have  the 
"  heathen  for  her  inheritance." 

"  Where  did  Pisano  study  symmetry, 
Unless  at  Pisa  from  a  Grecian  frieze, 
Stored  as  the  school  of  all  who  carve  and  paint? 
Alas !  that  in  those  two  luxurious  halls. 
Where  RafFaelle  painted  and  Cellini  graved, 
Heathens  gave  rules  for  morals  as  for  taste, 


484  Christian  and  Pagan  Rome. 

Till  taste  usurped  the  sphere  that  morals  fill, 
x\nd  Christian  men  grew  heathen  as  they  gazed! 
But  Truth  must  he  unchanged;  and  art  is  true, 
An  image  from  immortal  beauty  framed : 
Its  canons  change  not  with  the  changing  world ; 
Christian  and  heathen  study  them  alike, 
But  with  a  different  purpose.     As  the  tongue 
Speaks  in  all  languages  of  earth  to  heaven, 
All  styles  of  art  their  mother  Church  adorn  : 
She  loves  the  massive  forms  in  Egypt  learnt ; 
The  domes  and  marble  columns  of  the  Greek; 
The  Gothic  niche,  and  many-pillar'd  nave." 

Perhaps  the  chief  characteristic  of  the  picture  presented 
to  us  of  Rome  is  its  life-like  character.  For  this  purpose 
stateliness  of  effect  is  willingly  sacrificed,  and  whatever  is  most 
familiar  is  most  prized.  As  the  pilgrims,  the  washing  of 
whose  feet  on  Maundy  Thursday  is  here  described,  do  not 
come  into  church  with  silk  stockings  on,  so  our  poetical  Pil- 
grim enters  the  Holy  City  in  other  than  the  attire  that  passes 
the  censure  of  Belgravia,  sacred  or  proftme,  and  handles  many 
things  that  are  not  touched  by  white  kid  gloves.  The  Swiss 
Guard,  nay,  the  Noble  Guard,  find  their  place  in  her  picture 
of  Rome :  the  "  grazia"  of  yesterday  and  the  indulgence  of 
to-day  are  as  heartily  accepted  as  the  rites  of  St.  Sylvester's 
time.  The  fear  of  the  critics  is  no  more  before  her  than  be- 
fore the  devout  and  child-like  Italian  race  with  whom  she 
makes  us  acquainted. 

"  O  blessed  Rome! 
Thy  faith  is  not  of  cold  necessity, 
But  full  of  the  sweet  confidence  of  love  !" 

Such  is  the  comment  with  which  she  greets  a  legend  whicl 
would  be  characterised  as,  at  the  least,  "  an  idle  thing,  pro«j 
fanely  invented,"  by  multitudes  who  would  think  it  *'  un-Eui 
glish"  to  cast  aside  the  legend  of  King  Alfred  and  the  burne( 
cakes,  and  who  cherish  traditions  and  legends  without  cu( 
respecting  their  own  ancestors,  the  nursery  history  of  theii 
children,  and,  in  short,  respecting  all  that,  however  deeplj 
rooted  in  the  heart,  necessarily  makes  its  transit  through  the 
imagination  likewise,  on  its  way  to  the  memory.  It  may  b( 
worth  remarking,  that  the  notion  that  grave  evil  can  resul^ 
from  the  occasional  admixture  of  unintentional  error  witK 
veracity  in  such  narrations,  proceeds  from  a  source  not  s( 
much  Protestant  as  latently  infidel.  Protestants  are  usuallj 
without  the  means  of  distinguishing  between  that  which 
theologically  de  fide  and  that  which  is  accepted  merely  oi 
evidence,  and  with  a  historical  or  ecclesiastical  belief  propor- 
tioned to  that  evidence.     No  part  of  their  system  being  therc' 


Christian  and  Pagan  Rome.  485 

fore  absolutely  and  conclusively  free  from  doubt,  there  is  no 
fortress  within  which  certain  Faith  can  entrench  itself;  and 
they  feel  as  if  all  was  insecure  when  confronted  with  the  pal- 
pable fact,  that  between  history  and  religion  there  exists  a 
border-land,  in  which  to  require  certanity  is  as  perverse  as  it 
is  preposterous  to  shut  one's  eyes  against  the  fatal  conse- 
quences of  being  left  without  certainty  in  matters  of  revealed 
doctrine.  Faith  can  rest  on  nothing  save  the  Rock  of  Ages  ; 
but  the  affections  can  and  do  move,  both  in  the  higher  and 
the  lower  region,  with  profit  as  well  as  pleasure,  where  im- 
pelled only  by  laudable  instincts,  and  directed  by  probability. 
We  regret  that  we  cannot  follow  our  Pilgrim  over  the  many 
other  interesting  spots,  both  in  Rome  and  on  her  homeward 
way,  to  which  her  pencil  has  added  a  new  interest.  The  ex- 
tracts which  we  have  given — and  we  would  have  gladly  made 
them  more  numerous,  had  our  limits  permitted — suffice  to 
prove  that  in  The  Pilgrim  the  lover  of  poetry  will  find  much 
to  make  him  a  lover  of  other  and  graver  things  beside  poetry ; 
and  that  the  thoughtful  traveller,  whether  Catholic  or  Pro- 
testant, who  visits  the  regions  so  faithfully  portrayed  in  that 
work,  will  find  in  it  a  poet  for  his  companion  cind  his  guide. 

We  cannot  conclude  without  drawing  attention  to  another 
poem,  brief,  but  very  striking,  which  carries  the  mind  of  the 
reader,  not  to  Rome,  but  to  that  second  Rome,  so  long  the 
rival  metropolis  of  the  world,  at  which  the  destinies  of  man 
are  at  the  present  moment  rehearsing  a  part  which  may  stamp 
the  character  of  future  ages.  The  Turkish  Flag,  or  a  Thought 
in  Verse,  is  the  work  of  a  very  young  poet,  but  of  one  who 
bids  fair  to  become  one  day  a  well-known  one.  The  stanza 
in  which  it  is  written  is  that  very  difficult  one  to  which  we 
have  become  in  some  sort  habituated  through  Tennyson's  In 
Memoriam ;  though,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  poems  of 
the  Elizabethan  period,  our  literature  possesses  but  few  spe- 
cimens of  it.  The  skill  with  which  it  is  managed,  and  the 
vigour  of  the  diction,  are  sufficient  in  themselves  to  prove  that 
Mr."  Brinsley  Norton  possesses  a  portion  of  that  ability  which 
is  hereditary  in  his  family.  The  subject  is  the  war  on  which 
the  eyes  and  hearts  of  all  the  world  are  now  bent.  It  com- 
mences thus : — 

"  Men  said  that  War  was  driven  out ; 

And  pale  Peace,  crown'd  with  fruitful  palms, 
Was  carried  victor,  with  glad  psalms 
And  manly  cheers,  on  shoulders  stout. 

That  sacred  Image,  ?afe  restored, — 

All  worshipped  at  the  unlaurelled  shrine  ; 

War's  blood-stained  wreaths  we  ceased  to  twine; 
Peace  was  the  goddess  we  adored! 


486  Short  Notices. 

Borne  high  aloft,  with  cahii  fixed  gaze 

She  seemed  to  rule  the  eddying  crowd ; 

With  silver  smile  drank  in  the  loud 
Hosannas  chanted  in  her  praise. 

She  was  to  step  from  her  high  throne, 

And  traverse  all  the  chastened  land ; 

With  royal  touch,  and  healing  hand, 
Making  the  feverish  world  her  own. 

All  men,  like  Raleigh,  were  to  spread 

Embroidered  vestments  in  the  street 

For  those  processional  fair  feet, — 
In  homage  to  their  queenly  tread ; 

And  out  through  fields  she  was  to  pass, 

Where  blushing  clover  scents  the  lea. 

Or  harvest  lifts  its  burnished  sea, — 
To  bowers  among  the  untrodden  grass. 

*  Peace  reigns !'    The  message  found  our  minds 

Credent,  and  full  of  holy  fire  ; 

Her  welcome  chimed  from  many  a  spire, 
And  sweetly  burdened  sea-bound  winds." 

With  the  acclaim  which  has,  in  its  turn,  greeted  the  pro- 
clamation of  war,  Mr.  Brinsley  Norton  does  not  sympathise; 
and,  so  far,  we  fear  that  the  public  will  not  sympathise  with 
him.     The  war  presents  itself  to  him  chiefly  as  "  the  Crescent 
against  the  Cross."     Such,  we  must  own,  was  at  one  time  its 
aspect;  and  even  now  we  fear  there  are  too  many  who  regard 
the  Turkish  struggle  more  in  a  commercial  than  in  a  crusadin* 
spirit.     It  now,  however,  appears  that  the  rights,  both  civi 
and  religious,  of  the  Christians  have  not  been  overlooked  bj 
the  Western  Powers  ;  and  provided  they  are  effectually  vin 
dicated,  Mr.  Norton,  we  doubt  not,  will  be  w^ell  pleased  t( 
see  an  unjust  aggression  repelled,  and  one  of  earth's  faires 
and  most  historical  regions  saved  from  the  oppression  of  th< 
Russian  despot.     The  knell  of  Islam  is  rung  ;  and  it  is  no\ 
a   schismatical,    not   a    Mahometan,    caliphat   that   threaten 
Christendom. 


Sort  i^otuej^* 


THEOLOGY,  PHILOSOPHY,  &c. 

Thovghts  and  Affections  on  the  Passion  of  Jesus  Christ.  Vol.  2< 
(Richardson  and  Son).  The  second  volume  of  this  work  appears  t< 
attain,  if  not  to  exceed,  the  extreme  limit  of  what  the  Catholic  public 
ought  to  tolerate  in  the  way  of  bad  printing  and  bad  translation.  Scarcely 
a  page  is  free  from  faults  either  of  typography  or  of  translation.     Th< 


Sliort  Notices,  487 

very  first  page  gives  us  four  of  the  former  ;  and  this  is  not  the  onl3^  page 
in  which  they  are  thus  numerous.  Thus,  elsewhere  (p.  124),  we  are  told 
that  "  the  Jews  will  always  have  a  malidiction  on  their  Pasovers  for  the 
mo-it  greav cms  crime  of  having,"  &c. ;  we  are  exhorted  (p.  189)  to  re- 
member that  '■'Jews  is  God  ;"  we  are  told  (p.  14)  that  it  is  customary 
to  eat  the  Pa^chal  Lamp ;  and  so  on,  usque  ad  nauseam.  Now  all  this 
is  really  intolerable  in  a  book  on  so  sacred  a  subject  as  that  of  our  Lord's 
Passion.  Young  people  will  be  extremely  apt  to  laugh  and  make  fun 
of  religious  books  which  are  produced  in  this  manner,  and  old  people 
•will  certainly  have  a  very  good  ground  for  declining  to  use  them.  These 
faults  in  the  case  of  the  present  work  are  the  more  to  be  lamented,  as 
the  substance  of  the  book  is  full  of  editication.  The  translation  would 
seem  to  be  the  work  of  a  foreigner ;  not  having  the  original  at  hand,  we 
are  quite  unable  to  conjecture  the  meaning  of  some  passages. 

Answei's  to  the  Objections  most  commonly  raised  against  Religion, 
Translated  from  the  French  of  the  Abbe  Segur,  by  Miss  E.  Young 
(Richardson).  The  publication  of  the  Abbe  Segur's  work  in  English 
will  be  received  with  general  satisfaction.  The  original  work  has  proved 
itself  to  be  eminently  useful,  having  gone  through  27  editions  in  France, 
besides  numerous  reprints  in  Belgium.  It  will  be  especially  in  place  in 
all  lending-libraries;  and  Catholic  youngmen  will  do  no  little  good  who 
will  make  a  point  of  lending  it  to  their  companions.  The  objections  are 
both  put  and  answered  in  a  very  popular  and  taking  way. 


MISCELLANEOUS  LITERATURE. 

The  Tudor  Queen  Mary,  by  Stephen  Wells  (Richardson),  professes 
to  be  an  abridged  history  of  the  principal  events  and  personages  con- 
Bected  with  the  reign  of  that  much-maligned  queen,  and  was  first  read 
as  a  lecture  before  the  Norwich  Catholic  Literary  Institution.  The 
author  is  evidently  anxi(uis  to  do  justice  to  his  heroine;  yet  we  think  he 
has  signally  failed  of  doing  so  on  the  subject  of  the  Smithfield  Fires. 
Indeed,  he  treats  this  whole  matter  far  too  cursorily  to  make  any  salutary 
impression  on  the  mind  of  a  Protestant  reader.  This  is  the  one  point  in 
Mary's  reign,  the  popular  idea  of  which  needs  rehabilitation,  as  the 
French  w^ould  say,  and  it  is  here  dismissed  in  two  or  three  pages;  and 
the  substance  of  tliese  pages  stands  registered  in  the  table  of  contents 
thus:  "  Mary  the  persecutor,  and  not  the  Catholic  Church."  The  first 
part  of  this  proposition  we  cannot  subscribe  to,  and  we  think  a  more 
accurate  study  of  the  history  of  the  times  would  satisfy  Mr.  Wells  of 
its  falsehood. 

Mr.  Bohn  has  very  opportunely  published  in  his  Standard  Library 
a  new  edition  of  Ranke's  History  of  Servia,  with  a  sketch  of  the 
insurrection  in  Bosnia.  Ranke's  name  is  a  sufhcient  guarantee  that 
the  book  is  worth  reading;  and  it  is  admirably  translated  by  Mrs.  A. 
Kerr.  This  volume  contains  a  great  deal  of  interesting  and  valuable, 
but  not  generally  known  information  concerning  the  state  of  things  in 
those  frontier-landa  of  Mahometanism  and  Christianity  ;  the  whole  tone 
of  which  goes  strongly  to  illustrate  and  confirm  the  position  taken  up 
in  Dr.  Newman's  Lectures  on  the  Turks,  that  "  the  Sublime  Porte"  has 
been  and  is  a  most  serious  obstruction  in  the  way  of  all  liberty,  civilisa- 
tion, and  Christianity.  It  also  contains  many  curious  details  about  the 
almost  Pagan  superstitions  still  in  use  among  the  schismatic  Greeks. 


488  Short  Notices. 

A  Picture  of  Protestantism,  by  Henry  Teulon  (Burns  and  Lambert, 
Dolman,  &c.),  i''  a  very  effective  lecture,  originally  delivered  to  the 
members  of  the  Metropolitan  Catholic  Library,  on  the  state  of  religion 
in  England  as  exhibited  by  the  recent  census.  It  is  plain  and  straight- 
forward in  its  statements,  well  arranged  and  well  expressed,  and  calcu- 
lated to  suggest  much  food  for  useful  meditation  to  any  thoughtful 
Protestant.  There  is  an  unfortunate  misprint,  or  mistranslation,  in 
page  7,  which  makes  nonsense  of  a  very  apt  quotation  from  Cicero. 

We  cannot  sufficiently  express  our  hearty  sympathy  with  the  Very 
Rev.  Mr.  Oakeley's  letter  to  Lord  Fahnerston  on  the  subject  of  Tlic 
Religious  Disabilities  of  our  Catholic  Prisoners  (London,  Bosworth), 
The  sobriety  yet  earnestness  of  tone  which  pervades  it,  the  religion- 
principles  on  which  it  is  based,  yet  the  plain  practical  details  which  ii 
seeks  to  recommend,  render  it  every  thing  that  could  be  desired,  as  a 
document  addressed  by  a  zealous  and  exjierienced  priest  to  one  of  the 
chief  ministers  of  ihis  country.  Would  that  we  could  believe  that  tht 
public  mind  of  England  was  in  a  condition  to  deal  justly  with  this  mos 
important  subject! 

It  is  not  often  that  the  report  of  a  public  meeting,  on  an  occasion  o: 
great  excitement,  deserves  a  longer  life  than  the  columns  of  the  dailx 
newspaper  can  give  it.  But  The  Report  of  the  great  Catholic  Meetiiii, 
held  at  St.  Martin's  Hall,  Long  Acre,  March  21,  1854  (Burns  and  Lam- 
bert), furnishes  a  decided  exception  to  the  general  rule.  The  speeohe 
delivered  at  that  meeting  were  of  more  than  average  merit,  and  of  more 
than  ephemeral  interest.  Where  all  is  excellent,  it  is  almost  invidious  to 
call  attention  to  particular  speakers  by  name  ;  we  are  sure,  however, 
that  none  of  our  readers  will  i  egret  the  time  they  may  spend  in  reading 
the  S{)eeches  of  Lieut. -Col.  Vaughan,  the  Hon.  J.  P.  Arundell,  and  Mr. 
Charles  Weld.  Indeed,  the  whole  Report  will  be  read  with  great  in- 
Jterest  by  all  Catholics,  and,  we  hope,  with  profit  by  some  Protestants, 

In  The  Dublin  Review,  No  LXXL  (Richardson  and  Son),  the  ra 
prominent  article,  occupying  indeed  one  third  of  the  whole,  is  a  valua 
historical  paper  on  the  great  question  of  the  day,  Russia  and  Turk 
The   eccentricities  of  Anglican   theologians  supply  the  subject  of  i^ 
other  articles ;  Father  Faber's  work  is  very  briefly  but  ably  reviewed  in 
a  fourth;    and   some  simple   but  unapt  remarks  upon  ''sermons 
preachers''  make  up  a  fifth ;    Papers   on   Domestic  Architecture  a; 
Political  Economy  constitute  the  remainder  of  the  number. 

Mr.  Hodgson  has  published  a  Classified  Index  to  his  London  Catt 
logue  of  Books  published  from  181G  to  1851.    Extremely  useful  to  tb 
who  wish  to  know  what  has  been  written  on  particular  subjects,  and 
by  what  authors. 

History  of  the  Protestant  Church  in  Hungary  to  18-30,  translated  h\ 
Dr.  Craig,  Hamburg  (London,  Nisbet).  Tlie  author  of  this  is  neither 
wise  nor  learned.  He  is  a  dull  writer,  and  we  suspect  his  quotations  arc 
not  genuine.  In  j).  2()  a  deceased  Catholic  is  reported  to  have  api>eared, 
to  say  that  he  had  not  done  sufficient  penance  for  a  wwwdi^Y for  which 
he  had  -paid  only  2{){)  florins.  This  purports  to  be  a  quotation  from  it 
work  by  Prince  Paul  Ivsterhazy.  In  the  next  page  we  learn  that  th' 
nionks  only  knew  their  Miserere  and  Breviary.  We  are  pretty  coi^- 
fident  that  our  author  does  not  know  what  either  of  these  may  he. 
the  last  chapter,  his  protestations  of  loyalty  to  the  young  emper 
mixed  up  with  his  abuse  of  the  treachery  of  Gorgey,  are  instructive, 
showinir  the  utter  ineonsistencv  and  confusion  of  mind  under  N\hich 


i 


Short  Notices,  489 

iat)ours.  We  suppose,  on  the  whole,  that  we  must  acknowledge  the 
book  to  be  a  contribution  to  the  history  of  heresies. 

The  Year-hook  of  Facts  in  Science  and  Art  for  1854,  by  John  Tirabs 
(London,  Bogue).  This  is  one  of  an  annual  series  of  volumes,  in  which 
all  the  notices  of  memorabilia  in  science  and  art  which  ai)pear  from  time 
to  time  in  various  journals  are  collected,  and  thrown  together  under 
various  heads:  the  arrangement  is  not  Hrst-rate,  but  there  is  a  full 
index.  The  volumes  are  useful  to  those  who  take  any  interest  in  watch- 
ing tJie  progress  of  discovery. 

Himalayan  Journals;  or.  Notes  of  a  Naturalist  in  Bengal^  the  Si.^kim, 
and  Nepal  Himalayas,  by  Dr.  J.  1).  Hooker.  Maps  and  plates.  2  vols. 
(London,  Murray).  These  volumes  are  not  a  dry  collection  of  facts  of 
natural  history,  but  a  very  interesting  personal  narrative  of  a  scientific 
man,  who,  while  he  does  not  forget  his  barometer  and  thermometer,  his 
mapping  and  levelling,  and  the  collection  and  descrii)tion  of  his  bo- 
tanical and  geological  discoveries,  knows  also  how  to  look  at  nature 
with  the  eye  of  an  educated  man  ;  and  to  enlist  the  sympathies,  not 
only  of  the  naturalist,  but  also  of  the  general  reading  public.  Most  of 
the  ground  which  he  went  over  is  new  to  us;  and  we  have  many  brief 
but  extremely  well-executed  sketches  of  the  life  and  manners  of  the 
Nepalese  and  Lepcha  Buddhists.  These  people  are  similar  in  race  and 
religion  to  the  Thibetians,  among  whom  M.  Hue  travelled  ;  and  it  is 
gratifying  to  find  such  conclusive  evidence  as  Dr.  Hooker  affords  of  the 
scrupulous  accuracy  of  the  observations  of  the  lively  and  graphic  abbe. 
As  a  scientific  traveller.  Dr.  Hooker  perhaps  is  next  to  tbe  celebrated 
Humboldt ;  he  does  not  confine  his  observations  to  any  single  science, 
but  collects  and  digests  information  on  every  point  to  whicii  the  atten- 
tion of  the  literary  man  would  naturally  be  directed  in  investigating  a 
new  country. 

Laddhy  Physical,  Statistical,  and  Historical ;  ivith  Notices  of  the 
surrounding  Countries,  by  Major  A.  Cunningham  (London,  Allen). 

"  This  fellow  picks  up  wit  as  pigeons  peas, 
And  utters  it  again  when  God  doth  please;" 

for  he  certainly  has  no  definite  rule  of  his  own  for  the  arrangement  of 
the  multifarious  information  he  has  collected.  That  the  Major  is  no  So- 
lomon, our  readers  may  see  from  his  lively  remarks  on  the  prayer- 
cylinder  of  the  Buddhists,  with  which  all  readers  of  M.  Hue  must  be 
familiar.  "  The  device  is  so  ingenious,'^  he  says,  "as  to  induce  a  hope 
that  it  may  be  adopted  in  Roman  Catholic  countries,  where  the  time 
now  spent  in  telling  beads,  and  reciting  Paternosters  and  Ave-marias 
might  be  more  profitably  employed  in  worldly  matters,  while  the  beads 
were  told  iind  the  prayers  repeated  by  machinery  ;"  and  more  to  the 
same  effect.  We  will  agree  with  the  Major  to  this  extent,  that,  as  mat- 
ters go  now,  it  would  be  just  as  well  fur  him  personally,  \i'  his  prayers 
were  recited  by  machinery.  In  matters  of  conscience,  we  take  each  man's 
testimony  of  the  value  or  possibility  of  rnoial  works  to  be  valid  as  against 
himself,  not  as  against  his  neighbour;  e.g.  when  Protestants  tell  us 
that  it  is  impossible  for  an  unmarried  priesthood  to  be  chaste,  we  believe 
simply  this,  that  they  have  found  it  so  in  their  own  persons. 

Sporting  in  the  Himalayas,  by  Col.  F.  Markham  ;  plates  (London, 
Bentley).  The  author  professes  to  lead  his  reader  amongst  the  snowy 
peaks  and  through  the  ice-bound  valleys  of  the  grandest  mountains  in  the 
world  ;  and  rifle  in  hand,  to  note  down  the  triumphs  and  disappointments 


490  Short  Notices. 

of  a  sportsnian*8  life  in  the  Himalayas.  This  is  a  genuine  book,  describ- 
ing, under  a  different  point  of  view,  the  same  range  of  country  as  that 
investigated  by  Dr.  Hooker. 

Algeria;  the  Topography  and  History,  Moral,  Political,  Social,  and 
Natural,  of  French  Africa,  by  J.  R.  Morell  (Illustrated  London  Library). 
A  ha^ty  compilation  from  French  authorities,  disfigured  by  the  red-re- 
publican sympathies  of  tlje  compiler,  but  still  full  of  interesting  infor- 
mation. The  author  almost  foams  at  the  mouth  when  he  mentions  Jesuit- 
ism, which  he  calls  infidelity  ;  but  can  hardly  find  words  to  express  his 
admiration  of  Abd-el-Kader's  employing  himself  in  writing  a  comment 
on  the  Koran  in  his  retirement  at  Broussa. 

Evenings  in  my  Tent ;  or,  Wanderings  in  Balad  Ejjareed :  illustrating 
the  moral,  religions,  social,  and  political  conditions  of  various  Arab  Tribes 
of  the  African  Sahara,  by  the  Kev.  N.  Davis,  F.R.S.S.A. ;  2  vols.  (Lon- 
don, Hall,  Virtue,  &  Co.).  The  rev.  gentleman  has  observed  many  facts 
well  worth  recording,  and  has  collected  some  exceedingly  interesting,  per- 
haps valuable,  information,  on  the  traditions  ot  the  Arabs,  which  he  has 
illustrated  with  translations  from  Arabic  Mss.,  and  also  with  observations 
of  his  own,  in  a  parsonic  and  anile  style.  From  his  peculiar  mode  ef  im- 
proving the  occasion,  we  suppose  that  he  is  a  Dissenter,  or  at  any  rate 
that  he  never  had  a  University  education  ;  he  is  fond  of  drawing  parallels 
between  Mahometan  and  Rabbinic  traditions  and  Popish  superstitions. 
We  read  a  book  last  year  by  Mr.  Spence  Hardy  to  show  the  same  won- 
derful correspondence  between  Popery  and  Buddhism.  Works  on  the 
identity  of  Popery  with  Paganism  in  general  have  been  long  before  the 
public.  We  will  go  a  little  further  than  any  of  these  books,  and  gladly 
allow  that  many  of  the  distinctive  characteristics  of  Popery  are  to  be  found 
in  every  religion  which  is  a  conscientious  endeavour  of  man  to  please  his 
Creator,  and  not  merely  to  gratify  his  own  passions  under  the  mask  of  re- 
ligion. There  is  a  great  similarity  between  Popery  and  all  those  religions 
of  the  non-Christian  world  which  are  really  religions,  which  in  someway 
bind  man  to  a  Deity.  There  is  also  a  still  more  marked  similarity,  ap- 
proaching to  an  identity,  between  Protestantism  and  those  other  religions 
which  are  no  religions  at  all.  "  Our  religion  and  that  of  the  Franks  have 
much  similarity,"  observed  a  Kurd  to  an  English  gentleman — "  we  eat 
hog's  flesh,  drink  wine,  keep  no  fasts,  and  say  no  prayers."  (Vaux's 
Nijieveh,  p.  23.) 

Campaigning  in  Kaffir  Land;  or,  Scenes  and  Adventures  in  the  Kaffir 
War  of  IS61-2,  by  Captain  W.  R.  King  (London,  Saunders  and  Otley). 
A  manly  book,  containing  very  interesting  details  of  the  Kaffir  war ;  it 
gives  a  noble  idea  of  the  daring  and  endurance  of  our  troops.  There  is 
a  valuable  ethnogra]}hical  chapter  on  the  language,  customs,  and  tra- 
ditions of  the  Kaffirs. 

The  Knout  and  the  Russians;  or,  the  Muscovite  Empire,  the  Czar 
and  his  People,  by  Germain  de  Lagny  (London,  Bogue).  A  good  trans- 
lation of  a  lively  French  book,  with  spirited  illustrations. 

Travels  in  Siberia,  by  S.  S.  Hill,  Esq.,  2  vols.  (London,  Longmans). 
Mr.  Hill  gives  us  his  notes  of  that  part  of  a  journey  round  the  world 
about  which  most  interest  will  be  naturally  felt  under  present  circum- 
stances. He  is  a  man  of  wealth,  who  writes  down  all  he  sees  with  rather 
too  much  of  the  note  of  admiration.  He  even  goes  so  far  as  to  speak 
•with  complacency  of  the  taste  of  the  Russian  nobility  who  paint  their 
country-houses  pea-green,  and  gives  too  much  space  to  the  record  ot 
trifling  and  absurd  conversations  with  governors  and  other  dons.     But 


SJiort  Notices,  491 

his  tone  conciliates  credit,  and  prevents  our  supposing  that  what  he  has 
to  say  against  the  Russians  is  set  down  in  malice,  or  to  meet  the  present 
demand,  Russia  evidently  represents  an  idea,  bat  that  idea  is  not  a 
Christian  one;  it  is  the  old  Pagan  and  Oriental  notion  of  the  absolute 
supremacy  of  the  government,  that  state-idolatry  which  was  the  anti- 
Christian  dement  of  the  Roman  empire,  as  it  is  now  that  of  China  and  of 
Russia.  What  Schlegel  says  of  the  Chinese  is  equally  true  of  the  Russians, 
*♦  They  cannot  conceive  it  possible  for  the  earth  to  contain  two  emperors 
at  one  and  the  same  time,  and  own  the  sway  of  more  than  one  such  ab- 
solute lord  and  master."  The  Russian  Credo  is,  "  I  believe  in  one  God  in 
heaven,  and  one  Czar  on  earth.''  If  any  one  doubts  what  would  be  the 
natural  effect  of  this  idea  on  a  Russian  Europe,  let  him  read  Father 
Theiner's  account  of  the  persecution  of  the  Catholic  Church  in  Poland: 
a  book  which  we  recommend  our  enterprising  publishers  to  get — not 
done  into  English,  but — translated. 

Among  the  books  of  travel  for  whose  publication  we  are  probably 
indebted  to  the  war,  may  be  mentioned  Kazan,  the  ancierd  Capital  of 
the  Tartar  Khans ;  or  Russia  on  the  borders  of  Asia,  by  E.  T.  Turnerelli 
(London,  Bentley,  2  vols.).  The  author  of  these  volumes  opens  a  new 
world  to  the  notice  of  the  English  traveller;  one  which  he  seems  to 
have  very  closely  studied  himself  during  a  residence  of  some  years,  and 
whose  attractions  he  paints  in  glowing  colours  for  the  benefit  of  those  of 
our  fellow-countrymen  who  have  exhausted  the  more  ordinary  European 
routes,  and  are  in  search  of  something  new.  The  author's  sympathies, 
as  far  as  he  expresses  them  at  all,  are  on  the  Russians'  side,  as  in  duty 
bound  to  his  kind  and  hospitable  entertainers  at  Kazan  ;  his  pages,  how- 
ever, generally  steer  clear  of  controverted  topics,  and  merely  contain 
the  ordinary  gossipping  kind  of  narrative,  enlivened  by  historic  anec- 
dotes and  topographical  descriptions,  Avhich  we  naturally  look  for  from 
the  pen  of  an  intelligent  stranger  who  has  been  resident  for  any  length 
of  time  in  a  foreign  capital. 

In  Ticonderoga,  or  the  Black  Eagle  (Newby),  that  writer  of  novels 
innumerable,  Mr.  G.  P.  R.  James,  has  crossed  the  Atlantic  for  a  sub- 
ject. Ticonderoga  shows  the  skill  of  the  practised  novelist;  and  though, 
diluted  with  Mr.  James's  usual  lengthiness  and  moralising,  is  not  a  bad 
story.  The  Indians  who  figure  in  its  progress  are  of  the  Cooper  school 
of  savages,  and  done  in  the  *'  heroic  style."  Many  people  admire  them 
in  Cooper's  pages,  and  no  doubt  will  find  the  Black  Eagle  a  very  in- 
teresting specimen  of  the  genus  homo.  To  those  who  have  a  taste  for 
such  personages,  and  who  like  novels  "with  no  harm  in  them,"  we  can 
safely  recommend  this  story,  and  add  that  it  shows  a  decided  improve- 
ment on  some  of  its  author's  later  productions. 

Mr.  Formby  has  added  to  his  valuable  collections  of  hymns  and  songs 
a  volume  of  Sacred  Songs  for  Young  Chihlren  (Burns  and  Lambert).  We 
understand  that  where  they  have  been  introduced  into  our  poor  schools, 
they  have  found  great  favour  in  the  eyes  both  of  children  and  teachers. 
Being  designed  for  young  children,  the  verses  are  of  a  very  simple  cha- 
racter, and  the  tunes  are  pretty  and  taking.  We  are  glad  to  learn  also, 
that  their  enterprising  Editor  is  preparing  an  enlarged  edition  of  his  book 
of  hymns  in  a  better  type,  and  at  a  cost  of  only  twopence  a  copy. 


492 


FOREIGN  LITERATURE. 

Des  Esprits,  ef  leiirs  Manifestations  fluidiques.  Memoire  adresse  k 
MM.  etc.,  par  le  M.  Eades  de  M  .  .  .  (PjHs  :  Vrayet  de  Surcy,  Rue  de 
Sevres.  8vo,  pp.  468),  is  a  most  valuaV)le  and  interesting  work  on  the 
subject  of  all  that  multitude  of  wonderful  phenomena  which  have  lately 
enj.^aged  so  large  a  share  of  public  attention.  It  is  not  a  merely  religious 
but  a  scientific  work,  addressed  to  the  Academy  of  Sciences;  but  written 
in  a  very  popular  style,  and  as  full  of  historical  facts  as  of  arguments.  It 
has  created  a  great  sensation  in  Paris,  600copies  of  the  third  edition  having 
been  sold  in  a  month ;  and  has  obtained  the  adhesion  of  some  of  the  most 
eminent  theologians  and  learned  men  in  that  city.  It  is  certainly  a  work 
that  deserves  to  be  studied  by  all  who  would  penetrate  beneath  the  surface 
of  the  very  important  subject  of  which  it  treats.  It  enters  deeply  into  the 
whole  history  of  these  matters;  gives  their  precedents  and  analogies,  the 
evidence  of  infidel  philosophers  about  them,  &c.  &c.  Its  general  drift 
and  aim  is  precisely  that  which  is  insinuated  rather  than  expressed  in 
the  following  pas>age  from  Dr.  Maitland's  Inquiries  on  Mesmerism  : 

**  Soon  after  the  discovery  of  Mesmerism,  it  was  observed  that  some 
of  its  phenomena  bore  a  striking  resemblance  to  matters  of  which  most 
persons  had  heard  something,  but  which  were  supposed  (if  they  had 
ever  had  a  real  existence)  to  have  belonged  only  to  old  times  of  dark- 
ness and  superstition.  As  these  new  phenomena  were  more  closely  in- 
vestigated, and  the  nature  of  the  art  which  produced  them  was  more 
fully  developed,  the  idea  of  this  resemblance  gained  strength ;  and  it 
came  to  be  thought  by  some  that  the  effects  produced  by  the  inag- 
netiser  might  explain  a  good  deal  of  what  a  curious,  ancient,  half- 
incredible,  lialf-indisputabie  tradition  had  ascribed  to  the  magician.  It 
seemed  natural  that  these  new  phenomena,  startling  even  to  very  par- 
ticularly enlightened  men,  whose  pride  lay  in  scepticism  and  a  super- 
stitious fear  of  superstition,  might  well  have  appeared  miraculous  in 
benighted  ages  of  ignorance.  It  was  thought  that  if  in  times  of  dark- 
ness any  man  had  chanced  to  tumble  on  these  secrets,  his  contemporaries 
might  well  consider  the  results  supernatural,  though,  of  course,  (else  what 
would  become  of  modern  philosophy?)  they  were  then,  as  now  and 
always,  only  the  natural  effects  of  natural  causes.  *  We  now  under- 
stand,' might  the  newly-enlightened  philosopher  have  said,  *  what  the 
ancients  meant  when  they  talked  of  sibyls  and  pythonesses,  oraclas 
and  soothsayers,  magicians  and  sorcerers,  witches  and  wizards,  with 
their  frightful  apparatus  of  charms,  incantations,  spells,  and  all  that  sort 
of  thing,  which  creeps  out  in  grotesque  forms  all  over  the  history  of  the 
old  world:  the  idol  of  the  ignorant,  the  stumbling-block  of  the  wise. 
After  all,  it  is  possible  that  some  of  these  old  wonders  were  not  mere 
lies,  and  the  wonder-workers  not  all  mere  impostors;  the  secret  is  out, 
they  only  did  what  we  are  doing.  Be  it  so  for  argument — I  believe  it  is 
so  in  fact;  but  then,  how  can  one  help  answering,  '•  If  they  only  did  what 
you  are  doing ^  you  are  doing  what  they  didV  " 

The  author  promises  a  second  volume,  under  the  title,  "Des  Esprits 
et  de  leurs  manifestations  dans  I'histoire,  dans  les  cultes,  et  dans  Ics 
sectes."  When  this  appears,  we  shall  hope  to  give  a  more  extended 
notice  of  the  whole  subject. 

M.  Theidore  de  BussTeres,  a  name  already  favourably  known  to 
English  Catholics,  has  published  a  volume  on  the  Histoire  du  Schistne 


Correspondence.  493 

Portugais  dans  les  hides  (LecoftVe,  Paris).  Both  the  subject  of  the 
work  and  the  name  of  the  author  are  abundantly  sufficient  to  bespeak 
attention.  Tlie  volume  is  enriched  with  a  number  of  documents  selected 
with  care  and  judgment. 

A  useful  little  volume  entitled  Le  Principe  rellgieux,  ou  Etude  sur 
les  Livres  saints  appropriees  aiix  hesoins  de  notre  epoque,  by  M.  Abbe 
Philip,  "  chanoine  titulaire"  of  Perpignan,  and  professor  of  theology 
at  the  "  Grand  Seminaire"  in  that  city,  has  just  been  published  by 
LecoftVe  and  Co.  (Paris).  It  is  divided  into  four  books.  In  the  first 
are  contained  certain  instructions  on  the  Holy  Scriptures  from  the 
Creation  to  the  time  of  Moses  ;  in  the  second,  similar  instructions 
during  the  life  of  the  great  lawgiver;  in  the  third  they  are  continued 
from  the  death  of  Moses  to  the  coming  of  Christ;  and  the  fourth  book 
treats  of  the  instructions  contained  in  the  Christian  Revelation. 

Those  who  are  acquainted  with  the  admirable  organisation  of  the 
"Catechisms''  in  Paris  will  not  be  surprised  to  learn  that  a  Coiirs  d' In- 
struction religieuse,  ou  exposition  complete  de  la  Doctrine  CathoUque,  par 
le  Directeur  des  Catechismes  de  la  Paroise  de  S.  Sulpice  (Lecoffre  and 
Co.,  Paris),  has  reached  a  second  edition.  It  is  in  four  volumes :  the 
first  volume  treats  of  the  Divinity  of  Christianity,  the  second  of  the 
Church  and  the  Creed,  the  third  of  the  "  Morale"  of  Christianity,  and 
the  fourth  of  the  Sacraments  and  Public  AVorship.  The  author  modestly 
but  pertinently  remarks  in  his  preface,  that  the  fruits  which  the  Cate- 
chism  of  Perseverance  has  produced  in  his  parish,  and  the  consistent 
and  zealoiis  manner  in  which  it  has  been  attended  for  some  years  by 
young  persons,  have  induced  him  to  embody  in  the  treatise  before  us  the 
lessons  there  given.  i 


A  PROTESTANT  JUDGE  AND  A  PROTESTANT  BISHOP  ON 
EQUIVOCATION. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Rambler. 

Dear  Sir, — In  the  April  number  of  the  Rambler,  the  author  of  the 
leading  article  on  "  Equivocation"  has  these  remarks  :  "  A  prisoner 
arraiiined  before  a  court  of  justice  positively  denies  his  guilt,  meaning 
only  that  he  conceals  the  truth  as  to  whether  he  is  guilty  or  not.  The 
lawyer  who  defends  him  puts  on  an  appearance  of  belief  in  his  inno- 
cence, and  even  asserts  that  innocence,  throwing  the  burden  of  the 
proof  of  guilt  upon  the  accuser"  (p.  327). 

By  way  of  illustrating  these  remarks,  will  you  permit  me  to  refer 
your  readers  to  the  Times  newspaper,  Saturday,  March  4,  1854,  in 
which  they  will  find  the  following  extract  from  the  report  of  the  spring 
assizes : 

"  Western  Circuit.  Winchester,  Friday,  March  3,  1854.  Before 
3Ir.  Baron  Martin. 

"  No  less  than  63  prisoners  were  placed  at  the  bar  this  morning  to 
plead.     A  great  many  pleaded  guilty. 

"  Mr.  Baron  Martin  asked  many  of  them,  who  recommended  them 
to  plead  guilty?  *  because  it  should  be  generally  knovm  that  pleading  not 


494<  Correspondence, 

guilty  is  not  a  falsehood;  it  merely  means  not  legally  guilty,  and  that 
the  prisoners  called  upon  the  pro«;ecutor  to  prove  that  they  were  guilty.' 

♦*  In  answer  to  this  observation,  it  may  be  stated,  that  at  all  events 
the  prisoners  believe  they  are  telling  a  lie ;  they  know  nothing  of  legal 
guilt ;  they  mean  moral  guilt.  Why  will  not  our  legal  reformers  alter  the 
term?  '  I  wish  to  be  tried'  would  answer  all  the  purpose.  We  happen 
to  knowihat  the  chaplains  of  some  of  the  gaols  impress  upon  the  minds 
of  the  prisoners  the  impropriety  of  adding  to  their  guilt  by  telling  a  false- 
hood.    This  is  the  true  reason  why  so  many  j)risoners  plead  guilty. 

"  It  happens  that  several  prisoners  who  have  pleaded  guilty  during 
the  present  assizes  have  been  induced  to  change  their  plea,  and  have 
actually  been  acquitted,  in  consequence  either  of  defects  in  the  evidence, 
or  because  the  matter  did  not  in  law  amount  to  an  offence^ 

The  successful  efforts  of  the  gaol  chaplains  to  i)ersuade  those  poor 
creatures  to  plead  guilty  to  what  often  turns  out  to  be  no  guilt  at  all, 
remind  one  of  nothmg  so  forcibly  as  of  the  declaration  of  our  Lord,  "  If 
the  blind  lead  the  blind,  both  will  fall  into  the  ditch." 

I  am,  dear  Sir,  yours  very  faithfully, 

Edinburgh,  April  1854.  James  A.  Stothert. 


Another  correspondent  has  kindly  furnished  us  with  the  following 
passages  taken  from  a  work  of  Bishop  Andrews  on  the  Ten  Command- 
ments. His  third  case  of  lawful  equivocation  is  precisely  that  so  much 
objected  to  by  the  Christian  Hememhrancer  in  St.  Alphonso. 

Commandment  9,  ch.  vi. 

*'  Though  we  must  in  no  case  speak  contrary  to  the  truth,  yet  there 
are  some  cases  wherein  w^e  seem  to  go  against,  but  do  not. 

**  1.  When  things  are  spoken  in  parabolical  and  figural  speeches,  &c. 

'*  2.  When  part  of  the  truth  is  concealed,  but  no  untruth  uttered.'* 
And  he  quotes  Gen.  xx.  12,  and  1  Sam.  xvi.  2,  5. 

*'  3.  When  a  question  may  have  two  senses  or  meanings,  and  the  an- 
swer  is  true  in  the  one  but  not  in  the  other,  a  man  may  answer  it  in  his 
OW71  sense,  which  is  true,  though  it  be  false  in  another  sensed'  And  he 
quotes  the  history  of  Jacob,  in  Gen.  xxvii.  19,  as  a  case  in  ])oint. 

'^4.  When  the  thing  is  changed  in  circumstances,  a  man  may  go 
contrary  to  what  he  said,  and  yet  not  be  guilty  of  an  untruth." 

Presently,  &^ei\\i\w^  oi mendaciumfacti.  he  says:  "  As  we  said  be- 
fore a  man  may  conceal  some  part  of  the  truth  in  words  and  is  not^ 
bound  to  utter  all  he  knows,  so  here,  in  his  actions,  he  is  not  bound  ten 
signify  or  declare  all  his  mind,  but  that  only  which  luithnut  sin  canhol 
he  kept  closed" 


Levey,  Robson,  and  Franklyn,  Great  New  Street  and  Fetter  Lane. 


^ijt  ^mxhlti\ 


Part  VI. 


CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

The  State's  best  Policy  .••••••     495 

The  Life  of  an  Editor    .......     510 

Sufferings  of  English  Nuns  during  the  French  Revo- 
lution   520 

Reviews. — The  Czar  and  his  Subjects. — The  Russian 
Shores  of  the  Black  Sea  in  the  Autumn  of  1852  ;  with 
a  Voyage  down  the  Volga,  and  a  Tour  through  the 
Country  of  the  Don  Cossacks  ;  by  Lawrence  Oli- 
phant.  —  The  last  Days  of  Alexander  and  the  first 
Days  of  Nicholas,  Emperor  of  Russia ;  by  R.  Lee, 
M.D.,  F.R.S. — Russia  and  the  Russians  ;  comprising 
an  Account  of  the  Czar  Nicholas,  and  the  House  of 
Romanoff;  by  J.  W.  Cole,  H.P.  21st  Fusiliers  .         .     536 

Chinese  Civilisation  and  Christian  Charity. — An- 
nals of  the  Holy  Childhood      552 

The  Modern  Protestant  Hypothesis  relative  to 
THE  gradual  Absorption  of  early  Anglicanism 
BY  THE  Popedom. — A  History  of  the  Christian  Church  : 
Middle  Age ;  by  C.  Hardwick,  M.A.        .         .         .557 

Short  Notices: 

Theology,  Philosophy,  &c.    .         ,         ,         .         .  577 

Miscellaneous  Literature   .         •         .         t         .  578 

Foreign  Literature       ....••  582 

Correspondence. — The  Mortlake  Choral  School  •         •     583 


VOL.    I. NEW  SERIES.  M  M 


To  Correspondents. 


Correspondents  who  require  answers  in  private  are  requested  to  sel 
their  complete  address,  a  precaution  not  always  observed. 

We  cannot  undertake  to  return  rejected  communications. 

All  communications  must  he  'postpaid.  Communications  respecting 
Advertisements  must  be  addressed  to  the  publishers,  Messrs.  Burns  and 
Lambert;  but  communications  intended  for  the  Editor  himself  should  be 
addressed  to  the  care  of  Mr.  Maher,  101  New  Street,  Birmingham. 


THE    RAMBLER. 

^  (lEatljaUc  J0ttrnal  anlr  ^n\m. 

Vol.  I.  ^''ew  Series.  JUNE  1854.  Part  VI. 

THE  STATE'S  BEST  POLICY. 

It  is  necessary  to  preface  the  remarks  we  are  about  to  offer 
with  a  definition  of  the  sense  in  which  we  apply  the  term 
**  Protestant"  to  the  Government  of  the  United  Kingdom  of 
Great  Britain  and  Ireland.  We  call  it  a  "  Protestant  Govern- 
ment" merely  for  the  convenience  of  the  phrase,  and  because, 
as  a  matter  of  fact,  its  members  are  nearly  all  Protestants. 
So  far  as  the  Government  and  the  Legislature  are  to  be  taken 
as  representing  the  nation,  we  repudiate  and  protest  against 
the  term  "  Protestant."  We  are  not  a  Protestant  people ; 
we  are  a  people  of  mixed  religions.  The  law  of  the  land 
recognises  a  perfect  equality  between  the  various  divisions 
who  bear  the  Christian  name,  with  the  sole  exception  of  ex- 
cluding Catholics  from  the  throne  and  the  woolsack.  To  call 
us  a  Protestant  nation  is  a  misnomer,  a  falsification  of  fact,  an 
insult,  and  a  trick.  It  is  the  embodiment  of  the  abominable 
notion  that  Catholics  have  not  equal  rights  with  other  En- 
glishmen. It  is  the  cunning  re-assertion  of  the  old  falsehood, 
that  a  man  in  becoming  a  Catholic  ceases  to  belong  to  the 
British  or  Irish  nation.  It  assumes  that  we  exist  on  the  soil, 
hold  property,  and  exercise  legislative  and  other  functions,  by 
virtue  of  some  special  immunity,  granted  us  by  the  magnani- 
mous toleration  of  those  who  alone  are  entitled  to  sway  the 
destinies  of  the  kingdom.  As  such,  we  condemn,  we  denounce, 
we  utterly  reject  the  appellation.  We  assert  that  every  right 
which  belongs  to  a  Protestant  belongs  by  all  laws  of  justice  to 
a  Catholic  also.  When  we  apply  the  term  to  the  English  Par- 
liament and  Ministry,  we  do  nothing  more  than  admit  the  fact, 
that  the  chances  of  the  game  of  life  have  thrown  the  dominant 

VOL.  I. NEW  SERIES.  M  M 


496  The  State  s  best  Policy, 

jpovjer  of  the  country  into  the  hands  of  those  who,  whatever  else 
they  may  be,  are  not  Catholics.  When  the  Whigs  are  in 
office,  the  Tories  do  not  admit  that  England  is  a  Whig  nation  ; 
nor  do  the  Whigs  permit  the  Tories  to  put  forth  any  similar 
claim  in  their  own  behalf.  We  Catholics  are  practically  out 
of  office :  we  have  to  extort  our  just  claims  through  fear  or 
persuasion,  when  we  ought  to  have  nothing  to  do  but  to  state 
our  case  as  equals  with  our  fellow-citizens.  But  we  do  this 
under  protest  that  we  are  iniquitously  treated.  We  declare 
that  we  have  as  good  a  right  to  be  masters  in  our  own  trans- 
actions as  the  haughtiest  and  most  powerful  of  the  dominant 
sects  who  agree  only  in  leaguing  together  against  us. 

Further,  we  protest  against  and  repudiate  the  accusations 
brought  against  us  of  being  "subjects  of  a  foreign  prince," 
and  consequently  unable  to  feel  as  other  Englishmen,  and  un- 
fitted to  share  the  power  of  those  whose  allegiance  to  the  laws 
is  whole-hearted  and  sincere.  We  deny  the  imputation  that 
our  faith  is  an  anti-national  faith.  We  declare  that  the  charge 
of  disloyalty  conveyed  in  the  phrase  "  subjects  of  a  foreign 
prince"  is  founded  on  a  fallacious  interpretation  of  those 
words,  invented  by  craft  and  propagated  by  malice.  We  arc 
not  subjects  of  the  Pope  as  the  sovereign  of  an  Italian  state, 
but  purely  as  a  spiritual  guide.  We  neither  owe  nor  pay  anv 
allegiance  whatsoever  to  any  Italian  government,  or  to  an} 
human  laws  whatsoever,  except  those  of  our  own  country. 
Catholicism  is  not  more  antagonistic  to  the  decrees  of  a  Bri- 
tish Parliament  than  any  other  religion  whose  adherents  be- 
lieve that  where  the  laws  of  God  clash  with  the  laws  of  men. 
the  former  are  to  be  obeyed  at  all  costs.  We  are  not  pre- 
pared to  render  a  slavish,  passive,  absolute  obedience  to  the 
dictates  of  the  secular  power,  because  we  hold  that  the  Chris- 
tian revelation  comes  direct  from  God,  and  that  the  secular 
power  may  enjoin  conduct  inconsistent  w"ith  the  supreme  au- 
thority of  the  revealed  word  of  God. 

What  man  calling  himself  a  Christian  does  not  hold  the 
same  ?  What  Anglican,  what  Presbyterian,  what  Dissenter, 
is  prepared  to  profess  a  rule  of  conduct  different  from  this ''. 
Nay,  what  infidel,  who  does  not  go  the  extreme  length  of  al- 
leging that  there  exists  no  distinction  whatever  between  virtue 
and  vice,  would  admit  that  in  every  possible  contingency  he 
would  render  a  complete  obedience  to  the  laws  of  the  land  ''. 
True,  the  Pope  is  an  Italian  ;  and  moreover,  he  is  the  sove- 
reign of  a  small  independent  kingdom.  But  this  is  an  acci- 
dent; the  Pope  might  be  an  Englishman,  and  his  seculai 
sovereignty  is  no  necessary  appendage  to  his  spiritual  supre- 
macy.    We  obey  him  as  the  Head  of  the  Christian  Church. 


The  State's  best  Policij.  497 

and  in  that  capacity  only.  If  by  any  possibility  his  connmands 
are  in  antagonism  with  an  Enghsh  act  of  Parliament,  it  ie 
only  because  Christianity  is  sometimes  in  conflict  with  the 
regulations  of  men,  whose  aim  is  purely  earthly  in  its  cha- 
racter. 

Probably,  if  human  life,  in  its  temporal  and  eternal  rela- 
tionships, had  been  fashioned  by  a  mortal  intelligence,  the 
possibility  of  this  hostility  between  the  authority  of  law  and 
the  dictates  of  the  gospel  would  have  been  guarded  against. 
If  man  had  had  the  making  of  the  universe,  we  may  rest  as- 
sured that  it  would  have  been  a  very  different  universe  from 
what  it  now  is.  From  the  number  of  fingers  on  our  hands, 
and  the  position  of  nose,  mouth,  and  eyes  in  the  face,  up  to 
the  constitution  of  the  Christian  Church,  every  thing  would 
have  been  marvellously  better  than  it  is  in  that  strange  world 
which  Infinite  Wisdom  has  created.  Not  the  least  of  the 
"  improvements"  would  have  been  the  prevention  of  these 
conflicts  between  the  Church  and  the  State.  We  should  never 
have  witnessed  the  anomaly  of  a  revelation  forbidding  in  some 
instances  that  obedience  to  "  the  powers  that  be,"  which  as  a 
rule,  and  in  the  most  positive  terms,  it  actually  enjoins.  Such 
troublesome  affairs  as  apparently  conflicting  duties  would 
have  been  unknown  in  this  world  of  harmony  and  peace,  and 
the  "  laws  of  the  land"  would  have  been,  by  a  peculiar  dis- 
pensation of  Providence,  in  strictest  union  with  the  dictates  of 
the  gospel. 

As  a  fact,  nevertheless,  this  is  not  the  case.  No  gift  of 
infallibility  has  been  conferred  on  the  Sovereign  and  Legisla- 
ture of  England,  or  of  any  nation  under  the  sun.  Conse- 
quently, no  man  who  believes  in  God  and  in  Christianity  can 
bind  himself  to  an  unreserved  obedience  to  the  laws  of  his 
country. 

This,  then,  we  hold  to  be  the  primary  duty  of  every  Eng- 
hsh legislator  and  every  minister  of  the  Crown — to  recognise 
the  indefeasible  rights  of  conscience  in  every  human  being 
not  an  absolute  atheist.  We  speak,  of  course,  of  legislators 
and  ministers  who  are  not  atheists  themselves  ;  who  either 
have  a  conscience,  or  who  profess  to  have  a  conscience,  and 
to  believe  in  Christianity,  or  w^ho  at  the  least  believe  in  the 
power  of  conscience  in  other  men.  With  such  persons,  the 
first  element  in  their  legislative  speculations  ought  to  be  the 
admission  of  this  one  mighty  element  in  human  life, — the 
existence  of  a  tribunal  superior  to  that  of  any  human  judg- 
ment-seat. If  you  would  govern  your  subjects,  not  as  slaves 
but  as  men ;  if  you  would  construct  a  political  system  which 
shall   be  self-supporting,  and  command  at  once   the  respect 


498  The  Staters  best  Policy. 

and  attachment  of  those  without  whose  co-operation  it  can 
have  no  true  vitality  ;  if  you  would  not  do  violence  to  every 
thing  that  is  noblest,  most  enduring,  most  obedient,  most 
worthy  of  cultivation,  in  the  human  beings  whose  destinies 
you  would  control, — make  not  a  law,  impose  not  a  penalty, 
until  you  have  once  for  all  abdicated  every  claim  to  an  undi- 
vided supremacy  over  the  mind  and  heart  of  mankind.  Galling 
as  it  may  be  to  the  pride  of  monarchs  or  governments,  to 
accept  a  position  inferior  to  that  which  another  sovereign 
maintains  invisibly  in  the  souls  of  their  subjects,  the  position 
must  be  accepted  by  every  wise  prince  and  legislature.  The 
powers  of  God  have  not  been  delegated  either  to  king  or 
statesman  ;  and  the  king  or  statesman  who  disdains  to  sway 
any  power  but  that  against  which  there  is  no  appeal,  will  find 
himself  incessantly  in  conflict  with  the  people  whom  he  desires 
to  rule  like  a  god. 

Asserting,  then,  our  resolution  to  resign  the  rights  of  con- 
science to  no  earthly  power,  we  repudiate  the  accusation  that 
in  so  doing  we  stand  apart  from  the  rest  of  our  fellow-coun- 
trymen, and  lose  our  title  to  be  regarded  as  loyal  subjects. 
All  that  man  dare  render,  we  are  ready  to  yield.  We  claim 
no  more  than  every  man  claims,  who  knows  that  there  is  a 
God  and  a  judgment  to  come.  We  assert  our  rights  to  fol- 
low the  rules  of  our  own  religion ;  and  we  declare  that  every 
government  which  attempts  to  wrest  those  rights  from  us  is  al 
traitor  to  that  higher  Power  which  gives  to  rulers  their  juris-f 
diction,  and  to  laws  their  binding  force  upon  the  conscience. 
That  jurisdiction  and  those  laws  we  admit  to  be,  in  a  certaia 
sense,  divine  in  their  authority.  Society  and  government  are! 
not  a  mere  human  device  or  institution.  God,  who  made  man- 
a  social  being.  Himself  set  up  law  and  government,  and  made 
rulers  His  vicegerents  upon  earth.  Believing,  accordingly,  in 
God,  we  obey  the  laws  of  the  land;  not  only  from  fear,  or  as  a 
matter  of  interest,  but  in  order  thereby  to  please  Almighty 
God  Himself.  But  when  those  who  make  or  administer  laws 
fly  in  the  very  face  of  that  authority  which  gives  them  their 
title  to  our  obedience,  obedience  ceases  to  be  their  due.  Laws 
made  against  Christianity  are  not  laws,  but  the  caprices  of 
tyrants.  If  the  ministry  and  legislature  of  this  country,  there- 
fore, are  what  they  profess  to  be.  Christian  in  their  principles 
and  honourable  in  their  intentions,  they  will  not  permit  their 
judgment  to  be  warped  by  the  circumstance  that  we  Catholics 
entertain  different  ideas  from  themselves  as  to  what  is  Chris- 
tianity. If  they  are  really  able  to  have  done  with  bigotry,^ 
narrow-mindedness,  and  shallow  spite,  they  will  address  them 
selves  to  the  great  work  of  governing  the  Catholic  populatio 


The  States  hestlPolicy.  499 

of  the  empire  on  a  basis  which  recognises  in  the  fullest  sense 
our  rights  of  conscience  as  Christians,  who  have  a  Master  in 
heaven  whom  we  are  determined  to  obey. 

Unhappily,  in  this  and  every  age,  alike  in  Protestant  and 
Catholic  states,  it  is  seldom  that  statesmen  can  be  brought  to 
view  the  question  in  this  rational  and  Christian  light.  They 
will  not  be  content  with  the  position  assigned  them  by  the 
God  of  nations.  They  are  beset  with  a  temptation  to  arro- 
gate to  themselves  a  power  to  which  they  have  no  just  claim. 
They  insist  upon  stigmatising  as  rebellious  and  disloyal  every 
subject  who  rejects  their  supremacy  in  things  spiritual ;  or, 
when  driven  from  this  monstrous  pretence,  they  take  refuge 
in  the  abominable  theory,  that  it  is  the  part  of  a  wise  and  pru- 
dent government  to  rule  its  people  through  their  passions  and 
their  infirmities,  and  not  through  their  virtues  and  their  con- 
science. Kings  have  rarely  had  but  one  maxim — Divide  et 
impera.  One  religious  sect  is  to  be  played  off  against  another 
sect.  Men  who,  united,  would  not  submit  to  violations  of  their 
conscientious  scruples,  are  to  be  managed  by  means  of  their 
mutual  jealousies.  Traitors  to  their  own  principles  are  found 
to  be  the  readiest  instruments  in  forwarding  the  designs  of 
those  who  would  rule  a  people  with  a  rod  of  iron. 

And  nowhere  has  this  Machiavellian  policy  thriven  more 
successfully  than  in  our  own  country.  The  innumerable  di- 
versities of  opinion  in  all  matters,  religious  and  otherwise, 
which  prevail  in  the  British  and  Irish  races,  is  an  irresistible 
weapon  in  the  hands  of  a  crafty  government,  whose  sole  object 
is  to  retain  its  own  power  and  keep  its  subjects  in  peace.  An 
English  minister  must  be  simple  indeed,  who,  with  Catholic 
and  Protestant,  Establishmentarian  and  Dissenter,  Methodist 
and  Socinian,  Irvingite  and  Mormonite,  Jew  and  Atheist,  all 
spread  out  before  him  like  chessmen  on  a  board,  cannot  con- 
trive to  wheedle  so  multifarious  a  generation  into  intermi- 
nable divisions,  suspicions,  and  quarrels,  rendering  them  as 
a  whole  most  perfectly  subservient  to  his  own  schemes.  It 
is  only  the  most  infatuated  Tory,  or  the  lowest  Puritan,  or 
a  Premier  in  a  transitory  passion,  who  can  be  at  a  loss  for 
resources,  with  such  a  chaos  of  elements  as  the  imperial  king- 
dom presents  ready  to  his  hands  for  cunning  organisation. 
Brains,  temper,  disregard  of  religion  and  carelessness  for  men's 
souls,  are  all  that  is  necessary  to  give  a  British  government 
an  almost  endles?  lease  of  power  over  such  a  people  as  this. 

One  only  difficulty  stands  in  the  way  of  our  rulers.  The 
Catholic  population  is  far  more  puzzling  than  any  Protestant 
denomination.  All  the  devices  of  diplomacy  are  needed  for 
the  management  of  us  Papists.     We  are  thorns  in  the  side  of 


500  The  State's  best  Policy. 

a  minister,  clever  and  unscrupulous  though  he  be.  Against 
Protestants  his  resources  are  ample.  With  an  annual  revenue 
of  many  millions,  and  all  the  honours  which  the  world  can 
bestow,  the  Establishment,  shout  and  declaim  as  it  may,  is 
the  most  amiable  of  domestic  servants.  It  may  roar  like  a 
lion,  but  it  will  lie  down  like  a  lamb.  With  more  than  ten 
thousand  snug  vicarages  and  rectories,  with  acres  of  glebe 
without  end,  with  Oxford  and  Cambridge  all  for  its  exclusive 
enjoyment,  with  six-and-twenty  bishops  in  the  House  of  Lords, 
besides  "  perquisites"  enough  to  make  the  coldest  expectant's 
mouth  water, — what  Premier  can  feel  a  moment's  uneasiness 
respecting  the  mode  of  controlling  so  sleek  and  well-fed  a 
member  of  the  national  household  ? 

The  Nonconformists,  too,  what  are  they  ?  As  a  class  of 
men,  shopkeepers.  Who  could  not  keep  the  peace  with  a  4 
race  of  bourgeoisie  ?  Tax  them  moderately  ;  permit  them  am-  * 
pie  indulgence  of  the  tongue  ;  spare  them  an  occasional  word 
of  flattery  ;  throw  them  a  stray  lord  or  so,  now  and  then,  to 
go  to  their  meetings  and  tolerate  their  unctuous  adulation ;  and 
lo,  they  straightway  subside  into  the  mildest  of  remonstrants; 
their  consciences  prove  sufliciently  elastic  for  all  practical 
purposes ;  and  as  fast  as  they  make  fortunes  in  business,  they 
quietly  drop  off  from  the  dissenting  branches,  and  are  grafted 
into  the  sheltering  and  gentlemanly  Establishment.  Oh ! 
what  simple  politicians  were  they  who  tormented  the  elder 
Puritans,  and  drove  the  "  Pilgrim  Fathers"  to  the  New 
World  !  What  a  satire  on  a  "  government"  was  that  which 
threw  the  reins  of  power  into  the  grasp  of  Cromwell  and  his 
Ironsides !  We  know  better  in  these  days.  We  know  better 
than  to  cut  off  Nonconformist  ears,  long  though  they  may  be. 
We  pour  sweet  nonsense  into  those  willing  receptacles,  and 
the  land  is  free  from  Prynnes,  and  Hampdens,  and  Bunyans. 

But  when  all  else  are  disposed  of,  the  Papist  remains. 
He  has  certain  peculiarities  which  render  him  an  awkward 
subject  for  ministerial  manipulation.  First  of  ail,  he  differs 
from  all  classes  of  Protestants  in  having  one  fixed,  distinct, 
and  perfectly-well  ascertained  religious  creed.  Hence  the 
government  wedge  cannot  be  introduced  into  any  of  those 
doctrinal  crevices,  which  prove  so  convenient  in  the  case  of 
others.  Without  imputing  any  extraordinary  or  conscious 
insincerity  to  a  Protestant,  it  is  certain  that  the  vague  and 
undefined  character  of  his  opinions  enables  €tatesmen  of  very 
moderate  ingenuity  to  devise  subtle  compromises,  by  which 
the  Protestant  conscience  is  reconciled  to  the  parliamentary 
or  judicial  decree.  A  person  whose  creed  is  purely  a  matter 
of  private  opinion  is  rarely  so  thoroughly  of  the  same  miud 


The  States  best  Policy.  501 

for  two  years  together,  as  to  have  any  decent  pretence  for  set- 
ting his  "  views"  in  glaring  opposition  to  a  clear,  downright 
act  of  ParHament  or  magisterial  sentence.  Amid  the  endless 
fluctuations  produced  by  the  conflict  of  Thirty-nine  Articles, 
Rubrics,  Bishops'  Charges,  Biblical  Criticism,  Assembly's  Ca- 
techism, Wesleyan  Experiences,  Evangelical  Commentaries, 
Newspaper  Articles,  and  Exeter-Hall  Orations,  opportunities 
for  "  statesmanlike"  management  occur  in  almost  embarras- 
sing profusion.  With  us,  on  the  contrary,  the  Council  of 
Trent,  the  Pope's  Bulls,  and  sundry  condemned  Propositions 
besides,  produce  so  decided  a  uniformity  of  faith,  that  it  is 
hopeless  for  a  government  to  try  to  divide  us  against  one  an- 
other on  grounds  of  religious  doctrine.  Our  faith  of  to-day 
will  be  our  faith  twenty  years  hence. 

Further  still,  and  worse  still,  we  are,  by  our  first  prin- 
ciples, a  compact,  organised,  and  living  body.  Protestants, 
however  numerically  formidable,  have  no  corporate  strength. 
They  are  a  mere  aggregate  of  individuals.  We,  on  the  con- 
trary, are  a  Church.  Every  blow  struck  at  a  single  member 
sends  a  shock  through  the  whole  framework  of  which  he  is 
a  portion.  No  man  stands  alone  amongst  us,  and  therefore 
no  .  man  can  be  injured  without  a  proportionate  suffering 
on  the  part  of  every  fellow-Catholic  in  existence.  Every 
person,  moreover,  having  his  own  proper  place  and  office  in 
the  organised  whole,  any  interference  with  the  fulfilment  of 
his  functions  produces  an  instantaneous  irritation  and  resist- 
ance in  the  universal  body.  No  one  can  act  alone.  He  must 
compromise,  more  or  less,  his  superiors  and  his  inferiors  to- 
gether. He  cannot  shake  off"  his  relation  to  his  fellow-Ca- 
tholics, and  play  into  the  hands  of  their  opponents,  without 
ceasing  to  be  a  Catholic,  at  least  in  spirit.  Hence,  a  design- 
ing government  cannot  negotiate  with,  or  practise  upon,  in- 
dividual Catholics  with  the  same  facility  as  upon  individual 
Protestants.  It  is  not  an  easy  matter  to  divide  us  in  order  to 
govern  us.  More  or  less,  in  some  shape  or  other,  the  secular 
power  is  driven  to  recognise  our  spiritual  authorities  and  the 
validity  of  our  constitution.  It  is  impossible,  whatever  acts  of 
Parliament  may  say,  to  forget  that  a  Catholic  bishop  is  a  real 
bishop,  and  that  the  sovereignty  of  the  Pope  is  something 
diflferent  from  the  supremacy  of  the  Queen. 

In  this  dilemma,  it  is  the  usual  practice  with  governments 
to  adopt  a  far  more  odious  system  with  Catholics  than  they 
find  necessary  in  their  dealings  with  Protestants.  Tlie  fun- 
damental principle  of  Protestantism  allowing  of  and  sanc- 
tioning disunion,  a  man  may  be  a  very  good  specimen  of  a 
Protestant,  though  he  stands  absolutely   alone   in  his  views 


502  The  States  best  Folicy, 

and  conduct.  Hence  the  secular  power  has  no  difficulty  in 
finding  most  unexceptionable  samples  of  Protestantism  with 
whom  to  ally  itself  in  its  schemes  for  employing  all  religious 
sects  as  instruments  for  its  own  ends.  If  one  man  is  stupid, 
obstinate,  and  pragmatical,  another  is  at  hand,  at  once  re- 
spectable, accomplished,  and  facile.  The  government  accord- 
ingly, wise  in  its  generation,  pays  its  court  to  the  best  types 
of  the  Protestant  schools,  and  in  their  aid  and  service  gathers 
new  claims  to  the  title  of  a  Christian,  an  enlightened,  a  respect- 
able power. 

From  amongst  us,  on  the  other  hand,  the  system  of  rulers 
has  generally  been  to  fix  upon  the  worst  possible  examples  of 
Catholicism  whom  they  could  discover  in  our  ranks.  What- 
ever is  least  ultramontane,  least  spiritual,  least  anxious  for  the 
conversion  of  Protestants,  least  jealous  of  the  encroachments 
of  the  world  on  the  Church,  least  zealous  for  the  honour  of  the 
episcopacy  and  priesthood, — that  is  the  Catholicism  through 
which  English  ministries  have  sought  to  carry  out  their  aims 
in  respect  to  the  Catholics  of  the  United  Kingdom.  We  ad- 
mit, undoubtedly,  exceptions.  We  admit  the  perfect  respec- 
tability, the  personal  piet}'  of  some  individuals  of  all  those 
who  have  attracted  the  eyes  of  ministers  and  parliaments. 
Here  and  there,  further,  we  grant  that  they  may  have  em- 
ployed the  services  of  thorough-going,  undeniable,  and  utterly 
Popish  men  ;  who  never  for  a  moment  suffered  themselves  to 
be  hoodwinked,  and  would  have  sacrificed  their  lives  rather 
than  betrayed  one  iota  of  the  independence  of  the  Church. 
But,  speaking  generally,  the  English  Government  has  sought 
its  support  in  men  in  whom  it  well  knew  it  w^ould  find,  not 
friends,  but  tools.  That  such  must  always  exist  amongst  us, 
is  a  necessary  result  of  the  infirmities  of  human  nature. 
Many  things  are  sufficient  to  make  a  man  a  very  questionable 
Catholic,  without  amounting  to  a  ground  for  excommunica- 
tion, and  without  reaching  the  extent  of  voluntary  apostasy. 
And  these  are  they  who  have  been  the  favourites  of  our 
rulers,  and  who  still  are,  by  too  many  of  them,  accounted  the 
fittest  instruments  for  neutralising  the  power  of  Catholicism 
when  it  comes  into  contact  with  the  temporal  power. 

For  ourselves,  we  need  not  say  tliat  we  regard  such  a  sys- 
tem as  hateful  in  the  extreme.  It  is  Machiavellianism  in  its 
subtlest  and  vilest  form.  And  we  put  it  to  every  conscien- 
tious and  honourable  Protestant,  whether  such  a  system  can 
possibly  subserve  the  interests  of  the  country  where  it  is 
adopted.  Is  it  likely,  is  it  conceivable,  that  the  hojiourahle 
ends  of  the  temporal  power  should  be  advanced  by  intercourse 
with  the  Catholic  Church  conducted  by  men  who  are  partially 


The  State's  best  Policij,  503 

traitors  to  the  cause  th^y  profess  to  serve  ?  If  the  secular 
power  has  a  divine  authority, — if  governments  are  designed  to 
work  for  the  benefit  of  the  people,  in  harmony  with,  and  not 
in  perpetual  contradiction  to,  the  principles  of  Christianity,  is 
it  not  monstrous  to  imagine  that  this  alliance  is  to  be  main- 
tained by  means  of  the  vilest  intrigue,  by  assuming  that  the 
true  wisdom  of  the  State  consists  in  tricking  the  Church,  in 
denying  her  her  rights,  in  employing  her  least  trusted  and 
least  devoted  servants  ?  • 

We  do  not  ask  a  Protestant  Government  to  treat  the  Pope 
and  his  subjects  on  purely  Catholic  principles.  We  do  not 
ask  them  to  recognise  the  exclusive  title  to  true  Christianity 
which  we  claim.  We  ask  only  to  be  treated  on  the  system 
on  which  all  affairs  are  conducted  between  individuals,  corpo- 
rate bodies,  and  nations.  We  call  upon  the  Queen's  Govern- 
ment and  the  Houses  of  Parliament  to  admit  that  it  is  better 
to  be  at  peace  with  us  than  to  be  at  war  with  us  ;  and  to 
manage  their  relations  with  us  through  individuals  whose 
name  and  character  are  irreproachable  among  us  ;  who  may  be 
taken  as  representatives  of  thorough,  unflinching  Catholicism  ; 
and  whose  first  object  is,  to  beware  of  betraying  the  cause 
they  are  called  on  to  protect.  Who  does  not  act  thus  in 
his  intercourse  with  other  men  in  secular  affliirs  ?  If  a  house 
in  trade  would  have  honourable  relations  with  another  house, 
does  it  seek  to  establish  a  correspondence  with  the  least-trusted 
of  all  the  partners  with  whom  it  would  be  on  terms  of  friend- 
ship ?  If  the  English  Government  negotiates  with  a  foreign 
Government,  does  it  prefer  to  communicate  diplomatically 
with  some  half-hearted  traitor  to  his  own  country,  and  not 
with  duly-recognised  representatives  ?  If  the  Emperor  of  the 
French  were  to  send  over  to  London  as  an  ambassador  some 
disreputable  Frenchman  notorious  for  his  disloyalty  to  France, 
and  a  well-known  intriguer  for  his  own  private  advancement, 
who  would  not  account  the  English  nation  insulted  by  the 
mission  of  such  a  man  ?  Who  would  expect  to  perpetuate 
the  French  alliance  by  negotiations  with  him?  Who  would 
place  the  slightest  trust  in  the  representations  which  he  might 
make  of  the  feelings  and  the  intentions  of  France  herself? 
Why,  then,  is  the  Catholic  Church  alone  to  be  swindled  into 
friendship  ?  Why  is  this  sneaking,  insulting  policy  to  be 
adopted  towards  us  alone  ? 

That  such  a  policy  should  practically  succeed  is  impos- 
sible. It  may  succeed  in  doing  us  mischief;  but  it  will  never 
succeed  in  furthering  the  best  interests  of  this  kingdom.  No 
government  was  ever  well  served  by  a  corrupted  people. 
Good  Catholics  are  far  better  subjects  to  Queen  Victoria  than 


504  The  State's  best  Policy. 

bad  Catholics.  In  every  lawful  and  creditable  object  whick 
rulers  can  have  in  view,  they  will  find  Ultramontanism  a  better 
ally  than  Gallicanism.  We  do  not  say  that  Ultramontanism 
will  serve  the  cause  of  despotism  as  well  as  Gallicanism  will 
serve  it.  But  if  this  country  is  to  be  ruled  hy  free  and  liberal 
institutions,  we  repeat  that  the  very  worst  school  of  Catholics 
with  whom  a  ministry  can  ally  itself  is  that  debased  semi- 
Catholic  party  which  delights  to  reduce  the  Papal  power  to 
its  lowest  practical  point;  which  apes  the  nationalising  propen- 
sities of  Protestantism  \  and  accounts  it  a  finer  thing  to  be  an 
Englishman,  or  an  Irishman,  or  a  Frenchman,  than  to  be  simply 
a  Catholic. 

As  Catholics,  be  it  remembered,  we  have  no  wish  to  be  on 
terms  of  hostility  with  the  secular  power.  If  the  State  must 
needs  plot  against  us  or  persecute  us,  we  are  perfectly  con- 
tent to  take  her  as  our  enemy.  In  fact,  moreover,  she  would 
frequently  do  us  less  mischief  as  an  open  enemy  than  as  a 
deceitful  friend.  But  we  have  no  wish  to  create  such  hostility. 
We  accept  the  truth  that  governments  are  of  Divine  institu* 
tion,  and  that  as  such  it  is  right  that  they  should  be  on  terms 
of  amity  with  the  Christian  Church.  In  every  age  the  Ca- 
tholic Church  has  acted  on  this  principle.  Universal  history 
shows  us,  that  whatever  the  Church  could  conscientiously  do 
to  promote  a  harmony  between  her  working  and  that  of  the 
secular  State,  she  has  ever  done.  We  have  no  wish  to  in- 
augurate a  line  of  policy  different  from  that  which  has  the 
sanction  of  the  past.  The  Pope  has  ever  been  ready  to  do 
the  very  utmost  to  prevent  any  needless  clashing  between  the 
two  powers.  If  the  secular  power  had  shown  one  tenth  part 
of  the  forbearance  towards  him  which  he  has  shown  towards 
her,  the  records  of  mankind  would  have  to  be  re-written  for 
many  a  century.  We  desire,  accordingly,  to  be  on  terms  of 
good-will  v.ith  every  established  government  on  earth,  whether 
Catholic  or  Protestant,  Christian  or  Pagan.  And  we  allege  that 
this  good-will  can  be  best  preserved  by  the  fullest,  most  open, 
and  most  cordial  recognition  of  the  essentially  independent 
rights  of  the  Catholic  Church,  and  of  the  supremacy  of  the 
See  of  Rome  over  every  portion  of  Catholic  Christendom. 
The  system  of  trickery  is  as  pernicious  to  the  state  which 
adopts  it  as  it  is  offensive  to  us  who  suffer  from  it.  The  really 
wise  statesman  will  neither  reject  the  friendship  of  the  Church, 
nor  will  he  seek  it  on  other  than  honourable  terms. 

In  saying  all  this,  we  must  not  be  misunderstood  as  advo* 
eating,  in  our  present  circumstances,  any  of  those  arrange- 
ments, pecuniary  or  otherwise,  which  are  frequently  implied 
in  the  idea  of  an  "  alliance  between  Church  and  State."     We 


The  States  best  Policy,  505 

have  no  wish  to  connect  ourselves  with  the  government  by 
accepting  at  its  hands  any  incomes  for  our  clergy,  or  endow- 
ments tor  our  colleges.  Still  less  do  we  desire  any  sort  of 
secular  rank  or  honour  for  our  prelates.  We  want  no  favours ; 
we  demand  only  an  exemption  from  tyranny  and  wrong,  and 
that  general  treatment  which  men  of  honour  and  character 
have  a  right  to  expect  in  their  intercourse  with  their  fellow- 
countrymen.  What  we  do  desire  may  be  best  expressed  by 
indicating  a  few  examples  of  the  manner  in  which,  as  matters 
have  hitherto  stood,  we  have  been  grossly  wronged. 

Take,  first,  the  subject  of  education,  and  especially  in  Ire- 
land. Of  the  "  National"  system  we  say  nothing,  especially 
as  the  conduct  of  the  present  ministry,  on  a  recent  important 
occasion,  was  an  exemplification  of  that  just  and  honest  spirit 
whose  universal  adoption  we  call  for.  We  should  have  little 
to  complain  of,  if  the  tyrannical  duplicity  of  our  enemies  was 
always  as  satisfactorily  thwarted  as  was  the  escapade  of  Dr. 
Whately,  the  Protestant  Archbishop  of  Dublin,  when  he  took 
hufi' because  he  was  not  allowed  to  turn  the  national  system 
into  an  engine  for  corrupting  the  Catholic  children  of  Ireland. 
The  "  godless  colleges,"  on  the  contrary,  furnish  an  illustra- 
tion of  that  very  system  of  trickery  of  which  we  so  loudly 
complain.  No  man  who  will  tell  the  truth  can  pretend  that 
these  establishments  do  not  directly  tend  to  shake  the  faith 
of  all  Catholics  who  receive  their  education  within  them. 
You  might  as  well  profess  that  the  study  of  the  daily  London 
newspapers  tends  to  make  people  Catholics,  as  that  the  educa- 
tion of  young  men,  when  conducted  by  Protestants,  does  not 
influence  them  towards  Protestantism.  It  is  an  insult  to  our 
common  sense  to  tell  us  that  history  or  moral  philosophy  can 
be  taught  apart  from  some  religious  opinions.  The  ministry 
of  the  day,  however,  thought  fit  to  establish  certain  colleges 
for  the  education  of  the  middle  and  upper  classes  of  Ire- 
land, with  the  special  view  of  including  Catholic  youth. 
What,  then,  would  have  been  their  conduct,  if  they  had  been 
sincere  in  their  professions  that  they  sought  only  their  edu- 
cation, and  not  their  conversion  to  Protestantism  ?  Clearly 
to  consult  the  Pope  on  the  subject.  They  knew  perfectly 
well  that,  without  his  consent,  the  colleges  never  could  be 
really  acceptable  to  Catholics  as  Catholics.  But  what  was 
their  conduct  in  fact  ?  They  attempted  to  cheat  the  Pope 
into  giving  his  sanction  to  a  scheme  which  they  dared  not  pro- 
pose to  him  in  a  straightforward,  candid  way.  They  were 
aware  that  differences  of  opinion  existed  among  Catholic 
bishops,  priests,  and  laymen  on  the  question,  and  their  notion 
was  to  play  off  one  bishop  against  another ;  to  negotiate,  to 


506  The  State's  best  Policy, 

talk,  to  utter  bombastic  expressions,  and  to  frame  crafty  regu- 
lations, by  which  they  trusted  to  hoodwink  his  Holiness,  or 
to  place  him  on  the  horns  of  so  awkward  a  dilemma  as  to 
drive  him  at  least  to  tolerate  a  scheme  which  he  yet  would 
refuse  to  uphold.  So  far  as  creating  divisions  among  Ca- 
tholics went,  they  unhappily  succeeded.  But  what  have  they 
gained?  Nothing.  Literally  nothing,  so  far  as  the  good  of 
the  State  is  concerned.  They  have  irritated  old  sores,  and 
actually  perpetuated  the  wounds  they  fancied  they  would 
heal.  Their  colleges  are  undeniably  a  failure,  and  will  sink 
lower  and  lower  every  year  that  goes  by.  The  few  unfortu- 
nate youths  whom  they  will  educate  will  prove  neither  good 
Protestants  nor  good  Catholics  ;  but  unbelieving,  conceited 
striplings,  the  enemies  of  all  earnest  religion,  and  the  very 
worst  possible  specimens  of  loyalty  which  a  deluded  govern- 
ment can  hatch  for  its  own  future  punishment.  All  this 
evil  simply  comes  from  the  desire  of  the  Government  to  dupe 
the  Pope  into  acquiescence  with  their  schemes. 

Another  infamous  wrong  has  been  the  usage  of  Catholics 
in  gaols,  and  in  the  army  and  navy.  A  partial  redress  of  this 
wrong  is  at  length  promised,  but  only  a  partial  one ;  and 
doubts  are  now  thrown  upon  the  fulfilment  even  of  this.  As 
it  is,  thousands  and  scores  of  thousands  of  poor  Catholics  are 
turned  into  godless  infidels,  so  far  as  the  secular  power  can 
afifect  them.  It  enlists  them  in  its  ships,  and  allows  no  religi- 
ous aid  but  those  of  Protestantism ;  while  in  its  regiments,  both 
at  home  and  on  service,  its  treatment  of  them  is  disgraced  by 
every  species  of  petty  insult,  niggardliness,  and  persecution. 
And  what  is  true  of  the  army  and  navy  is  true  also,  for  the 
most  part,  of  our  gaols  and  workhouses.  If  the  Government 
were  to  do  its  duty,  and  treat  us  as  an  honourable  friendship 
between  the  Church  and  State  would  require,  all  this  would 
cease  in  an  instant.  The  question  would  not  be  whether 
Catiiolic  chaplains  are  paid  as  much  as  Protestant  chaplains ; 
but  whether  Catholic  soldiers,  sailors,  paupers,  and  prisoners, 
have  ever}'  religious  aid  which  their  faith  requires.  We  care 
nothing  about  what  is  done  for  Protestants.  They  may  want 
more  or  they  may  want  less  than  we  do.  Their  clergy  nia} 
expect  three  times  the  salary  that  ours  expect.  What  is  tha; 
to  us?  Let  the  State  do  its  duty  to  them  in  their  way,  aiui 
to  us  in  our  way.  Let  it  provide  that  every  poor  Catholic 
whose  liberty  it  controls  shall  have  the  means  of  fulfilling  the 
first  duties  of  all  Catholics.  Let  Catholic  soldiers,  sailors, 
paupers,  and  prisoners,  hear  Mass  every  Sunday  and  day  ot 
obligation.  Let  them  have  piiests  to  hear  their  confessions 
when  they  wish  it,  and  to  minister  to  them  in  sickness  ai 


The  States  best  Policy.  507 

death.  And  let  no  Protestant  tricks  be  played  upon  their 
souls,  under  cover  of  those  secular  regulations  to  which  the 
necessities  of  their  cases  have  forced  them  to  submit.  Until 
we  have  all  this  granted  to  us,  without  stint  or  deception,  we 
shall  justly  regard  ourselves  as  ill-used  and  tyrannised  over  by 
the  Government,  which  we  really  wish  to  uphold,  if  only  it 
will  deal  fairly  with  us. 

Equally  unwise,  on  all  principles  of  sound  policy,  has  been 
the  usual  choice  of  Catholics  made  by  different  governments 
for  office  under  the  Crown.  Whenever  they  have  conceived 
it  desirable  to  appoint  a  Catholic  to  a  "place"  of  any  kind, 
and  still  more  so  to  an  office  in  the  ministry,  their  ordinary 
system  has  been,  to  select  those  who  have  the  least  title  to 
represent  the  spirit  of  living  and  thoroughly  Papal  Catholi- 
cism. The  less  a  man  has  been  of  a  Catholic,  the  more  agree- 
able has  he  been  in  a  Premier's  eyes.  Or  if  he  has  been  a 
Catholic  in  reality  as  well  as  in  name,  his  character  has  been 
hampered  with  a  past  history  which  utterly  forbids  his  ap- 
pointment from  strengthening  the  morale  of  the  government 
which  alHes  itself  with  him,  and  in  no  way  tends  to  inspire 
the  Catholic  body,  as  Catholics,  with  confidence  in  his  pa- 
trons. 

This  same  fatal  blundering  has  infected  the  present  Mi- 
nistry almost  as  perniciously  as  its  predecessors.  Lord  Aber- 
deen, on  entering  office,  wished,  like  a  man  of  sense  and 
statesmanlike  views,  to  enlist  some  few  Catholics  among  his 
supporters.  That  he  found  it  no  peculiarly  easy  matter  to  do 
this  to  his  satisfaction  we  readily  admit.  Unhappily,  we  have 
so  few  men  of  political  capacity  and  character  amongst  us, 
that  had  Lord  Aberdeen  been  a  devoted  Catholic  himself,  he 
would  have  been  compelled  to  search  pretty  keenly  for  such 
Catholic  aid  as  he  need  not  have  been  ashamed  to  invoke.  As 
it  was,  he  committed  a  most  serious  blunder.  Of  three  Ca- 
tholics whom  he  named  to  political  office,  two  were  wholly 
unfitted  by  their  antecedents  to  give  real  strength  to  his 
ministry.  Li  every  respect  Mr.  Monsell's  appointment  was 
a  wise  and  unexceptionable  one ;  the  other  two,  those  of 
Messrs.  Keogh  and  Sadleir,  were  simply  suicidal.  Of  those 
gentlemen,  as  personally  fitted  for  office,  we  have  nothing  to 
say;  but  they  had  just  pledged  themselves  in  so  emphatic  a 
manner  against  any  such  government  as  Lord  Aberdeen's, 
that  it  was  impossible  that  they  could  enter  office  with  a  single 
rag  of  political  reputation.  How  far  Lord  Aberdeen  was 
aware  of  their  previous  history  we  cannot  tell ;  but  we  much 
doubt  whether  he  knew  any  thing  more  of  them  than  that 


508  Tlie  State's  best  Policy, 

they  were  Catholics,  and  that  Mr.  Sadleir  was  a  man  of  pro- 
perty and  local  influence,  and  Mr.  Keogh  a  clever  lawyer  and 
eifective  speaker. 

At  the  same  time,  it  is  of  this  very  ignorance  of  the  com- 
parative merits  of  different  Catholics,  on  the  part  of  Protestant 
statesmen,  that  we  loudly  complain.  They  take  no  pains  to 
ascertain  our  real  internal  condition  and  mutual  relationships. 
They  start  by  regarding  us  as  natural  enemies  to  the  consti- 
tution and  government  of  the  kingdom ;  and  if  they  employ 
us,  it  is  on  the  principle  of  dividing  us  one  against  another, 
and  so  weakening  our  strength.  Seeking  to  rule  us  through 
our  infirmities  and  passions,  all  they  care  to  know  is,  wJio  is 
to  be  bought.  That  Catholic  members  of  Parliament  have 
given  successive  governments  too  much  reason  to  imagine  that 
we  are  all  of  us  in  the  market,  and  that  there  exists  no  other 
and  better  spirit  amongst  us  than  what  is  displayed  in  violent 
personalities  and  clumsy  intrigue,  we  are  forced  to  confess, 
with  no  little  shame  and  mortification.  But  we  protest  against 
its  being  supposed  that  we  are  really  '*  represented"  by  men 
whose  sole  object  is  place,  and  whose  chief  occupation  is  fiery 
abuse  of  one  another.  And  we  venture  to  assure  Lord  Aber- 
deen, and  every  other  Protestant  who  desires  to  know  the 
true  state  of  English  and  Irish  Catholicism,  that  for  the  most 
part  these  noisy  and  disreputable  place-hunters,  whether  in 
Parliament  or  out  of  it — these  hangers-on  upon  every  Whig 
administration  that  would  throw  them  a  bone  to  stop  their 
bowlings, — are  Catholics  of  the  lowest  Galilean  school,  who 
care  very  little  more  for  the  Pope  than  for  the  Archbishop  of 
Canterbury ;  and  that  they  are  the  very  last  persons  who  can 
be  taken  as  representing  that  living,  energetic  spirit  of  Catho- 
licism which  it  ought  to  be  the  policy  of  every  government  to 
conciliate  by  honourable  treatment. 

In  pressing  these  considerations  on  influential  politicians, 
we  have  all  along  assumed  that  it  was  their  principle  to  seek,. 
by  some  means  or  other,  to  be  on  good  terms  with  the  Ca- 
tholic portion  of  the  people.  That  any  man,  with  the  slightcs; 
pretensions  to  the  character  of  a  statesman,  should  deliberatel} 
prefer  a  state  of  open  hostility  towards  an  immense  section  o: 
the  nation,  would,  apart  from  experience,  seem  simply  impos- 
sible. Yet,  unfortunately,  there  exists  a  class  of  men,  luA 
without  their  influence  on  the  national  counsels,  whose  stupidity 
so  fatally  predominates  over  their  capacities,  that  they  make 
it  a  first  element  in  their  policy  to  torment,  to  thwart,  and  to 
victimise  us,  by  every  possible  engine  they  can  set  in  motion. 


The  State's  best  Policy,  509 

With  these  men,  to  be  a  Catholic  is  to  be  guilty  of  deadly 
crime  against  the  State.  A  Catholic  is  a  traitor,  an  outcast, 
a  villain,  to  be  scorned,  crushed,  and  exterminated. 

To  argue,  then,  with  fanatics  like  these  is  bootless.  They 
cannot  argue  with  us  ;  and  knowing  this,  they  prefer  to  scourge 
us  into  silence.  For  them  there  remains  but  the  single  motive 
of  fear.  Nothing  will  touch  them  but  a  dread  of  the  conse- 
quences to  themselves.  To  them,  therefore,  we  say,  What  will 
you  gain  by  refusing  us  our  rights,  by  robbing  us  of  the 
social  and  political  advantages  of  which  we  are  in  possession, 
by  bullying  our  nuns,  by  insulting  our  clergy,  by  trampling 
upon  the  consciences  of  our  poor,  by  turning  with  a  silly 
shudder  from  our  aristocracy  and  gentry,  or  by  denouncing  us, 
in  public  and  private,  as  liars,  swindlers,  traitors,  intriguers, 
Bible-haters,  and  heretic-burners  ?  We  are  several  millions 
in  number.  We  have  property,  influence,  education,  respect- 
ability, and  intellectual  power,  which  you  envy,  even  while  you 
profess  to  despise.  All  the  laws  you  can  enact,  all  the  under- 
hand and  cowardly  devices  you  can  enforce  in  the  relations  of 
society,  cannot  turn  us  into  Protestants,  or  reduce  us  to  insig- 
nificance. Why,  then,  are  you  so  senseless  as  to  drive  us  to 
abhor  you ;  to  make  attachment  to  the  British  Crown  impos- 
sible ;  to  convince  us  that  British  freedom  in  our  case  is  an 
insulting  mocker}^ ;  to  force  us  to  desire  the  degradation  of 
the  English  power,  and  to  conclude  that,  as  Catholics,  we 
should  gain  by  those  chances  of  war  which  would  convert 
Great  Britain  into  the  tributary  of  some  foreign  state  ?  Do 
you  call  it  doing  good  service  to  the  Crown  and  Constitution 
to  convert  millions  of  the  nation  into  silent  favourers  of  what 
you  would  call  treason ;  to  turn  that  very  class  of  the  people 
whose  creed  peculiarly  indisposes  them  to  revolution,  into  a 
justly  irritated  anti-national  party,  whose  joy  will  be  in  your 
humiliation,  and  whose  discontent  will  be  a  cutting  thorn  in 
your  sides  ?  You  cannot  convert  us ;  ydu  see  you  cannot  do 
it.  We  will  not  disown  the  Pope.  We  will  not  acknowledge 
the  Queen's  supremacy  over  our  consciences.  If  you  make 
laws  against  our  religion,  we  will  defy  or  evade  them  by 
every  means  in  our  power.  Come  what  may,  we  will  uphold 
the  indefeasible  rights  of  our  consciences  amidst  contempt, 
mockery,  chains,  or  even  death.  Are  you  mad,  then,  that 
you  will  go  out  of  your  way  to  create  this  opposition  between 
our  allegiance  to  God  and  our  duties  to  the  State  ?  Are  you 
m  love  with  popular  discontent,  disloyalty,  and  an  abhorrence 
of  the  English  constitution  on  the  part  of  those  who  have  to 
submit  to  it,  that  you  must  needs  treat  us  worse  than  you 
would  treat  Turks,  pagans,  and  infidels  'i 


510  The  Life  of  an  Editor, 

To  you,  in  parting,  we  say :  Read,  if  you  can,  the  signs  of 
the  times.  Forget  your  nursery  prejudices,  your  apocalyptic 
niaunderings,  your  personal  antipathies,  and  look  abroad  on 
the  map  of  Europe,  and  into  the  dark  places  of  the  English 
social  system.  Can  you  foresee  what  is  coming  ?  Can  you 
imagine  that  this  nation  is  not  now  commencing  a  struggle  ia 
which  no  human  eye  can  perceive  the  shocks  she  will  en- 
counter ?  Remember,  that  in  the  mutations  of  a  long  war 
England  may  be  opposed  to  some  power  essentially  Catholic; 
and  that  if  there  is  one  thing  which  such  a  power  would 
desire,  it  would  be  the  prevalence  of  discontent  among  the 
Catholic  population  of  these  kingdoms.  You  count  all  this  as 
of  little  moment  now  that  events  are  far  off,  and  that  a  straight- 
forward advance  to  conquest  seems  all  that  is  required  of  the 
British  nation.  But  we  venture  to  break  in  upon  your  agree- 
able speculations  by  reminding  you  that  in  the  time  of  your 
distress,  with  an  exhausted  treasury,  with  upper  and  middle 
classes  rent  by  political  divisions,  with  peasantry  and  opera- 
tives ground  down  to  starvation  and  flaming  with  irritation, 
with  diplomacy  at  fault,  with  fleets  burnt  and  armies  slaugh- 
tered, and  with  pestilence  at  your  doors, — and  all  these  things 
may  he,  and  perhaps  will  he, — you  will  rue  the  day  when 
you  drew  the  sword  against  your  Catholic  fellow-countrymen, 
and  made  loyalty  an  impossibility  amongst  us. 


THE  LIFE  OF  AN  EDITOR. 


Be  not  alarmed,  kind  reader,  when  you  see  the  title  of  this 
paper,  at  the  thought  that  the  Editor  is  about  to  favour  you 
with  his  autobiography,  from  his  childhood  upwards.  Poeta 
nascitur,  non  Jit,  is  so  true,  that  every  poet's  life  is  written 
from  the  time  when  he  first  "  lisped  in  numbers,  for  the  num- 
bers came ;"  and  Lord  John  Russell  is  obliged  to  find  time 
amidst  his  parliamentary  duties  to  publish  an  endless  number 
of  volumes  about  the  most  minute  details  in  the  private  life 
of  one  of  that  privileged  fraternity.  But  who  cares  to  write 
the  life  of  the  child-editor  ?  To  be  sure,  if  we  could  go  back  to 
those  early  days,  we  might  perchance  find  some  feeble  germ  of 
his  future  vocation  in  the  form  of  a  harsh  or  peevish  criticism 
upon  the  omission  of  the  letter  h,  or  the  purloining  of  a  finalj 
letter  from  the  Queen's  adjectives,  by  his  plebeian  nurse ;  oi 
in  the  clear  perception  which  he  had  that  his  own  composi- 
tions excelled  those  of  his  schoolfellows.     But  we  write  ijot 


The  Life  of  an  Editor,  511 

to-day  of  such  a  period  in  his  life.  Our  song  is  rather  of  the 
successive  Numhers  of  his  journal,  which  each  month  so  sternly 
demands. 

We  need  not  recur  to  old  familiar  comparisons,  of  the  blind 
horse  that  turns  hour  after  hour  round  the  same  circle;  of  the 
briefless  barrister,  who  varies  his  dinner  from  mutton-chops 
to  beefsteaks,  and  from  beefsteaks  to  mutton-chops  ;  of  the 
young  midshipman,  who  starts  in  his  dream,  only  to  find  him- 
self called  to  his  dull  watch  at  the  same  midnight  hour : — all 
these  at  least  know  their  fate  ;  there  is  an  order  and  a  regu- 
larity about  the  execution  of  their  duties,  which,  even  though 
it  be  somewhat  tame  and  monotonous,  yet  certainly  is  not 
vexatious  or  harassing.  With  the  editor  it  is  otherwise ;  when 
the  present  month's  Number  has  gone  forth,  in  its  livery  of 
green  or  yellow,  to  haunt  the  table  of  the  learned,  or  to  be 
buried  under  the  piles  of  the  daily  papers  in  the  club-room, 
until  some  good-natured  contributor  contrives  to  bring  it  to 
light,  and  to  give  it  (his  own  paper  not  forgotten)  a  chance  of 
being  read  and  admired,  the  editor  has  not  only  to  resume  his 
unvarying  course  of  duties,  but  is  liable  to  all  sorts  of  distress- 
ing annoyances  through  the  unexpected  interposition  of  cer- 
tain disturbing  causes  from  without.  For  instance,  the  news- 
paper critics  have  determined  that  the  article  on  The  Pyramids 
of  Scotland  was  dull;  and  how,  then,  shall  the  editor  venture 
upon  continuing  it  in  the  forthcoming  Number,  as  he  had 
fully  reckoned  upon  doing?  Then,  the  author  of  a  criticism 
on  Chinese  Lawyers  was  deeply  offended,  because,  by  a  mis- 
print, the  chief  mandarin  was  called  a  fudges  whereas  judge 
was  the  word  which  he  had  used ;  and,  "  since  his  papers  are 
to  be  made  nonsense  of  after  this  fashion,  through  tfie  unpar- 
donable carelessness  of  the  editor,"  he  indignantly  refuses  to 
send  any  more  contributions  to  so  ill-managed  a  periodical. 
Or,  again,  a  very  able  writer  had  promised  us  an  article  on 
the  Eastern  Question,  and  was  anxiously  waiting  for  the  re- 
turn of  the  deputation  of  the  Peace  Society  from  Russia,  in 
order  to  prove  triumphantly  that  Nesselrode  has  outwitted 
Louis  Napoleon  and  Lord  Aberdeen,  when  the  latest  tele- 
graphic message  in  the  Opposition  papers  announces  that  the 
Turkish  Empire  is  a  thing  that  was,  a  vision  that  has  melted 
away,  and  a  geographical  name  and  shadow,  to  be  looked  for 
in  vain,  like  wit  in  the  House  of  Commons,  or  a  civil  answer 
to  an  address  from  Convocation ;  so  there  is  an  end  of  that 
article.  In  a  word,  it  is  an  editor's  monthly  destiny  to  ex- 
perience, in  a  most  inconvenient  manner,  the  truth  of  the 
homely  saying,  *^  there's  many  a  slip  'twixt  the  cup  and  the 
lip."     He  may  flatter  himself  that  he  has  taken  time  by  the 

VOL.  I. — NEW  SERIES,  N  N 


ili  The  Life  of  an  Editor, 

forelock,  and  that  he  sees  liis  way  through  the  next  few  num- 
bers of  his  magazine,  and  that  each  one  will  be  more  brilliant 
than  the  last;  yet  a  dozen  unforeseen  accidents  may  arise,  de- 
ranging all  his  plans,  and  surrounding  him  with  embarrass- 
ments. If  the  readers  of  monthly  periodicals,  which  are  made 
up  of  the  contributions  of  many  authors,  would  bear  these 
things  in  mind,  we  are  sure  they  would  be  more  patient  than 
they  sometimes  are  under  any  disappointment  they  may  them- 
selves experience  at  the  unusually  dry  character  of  some  par- 
ticular number;  or  the  temporary  interruption  of  some  fa- 
vourite series  of  papers  ;  or  the  postponement  of  some  subject 
of  the  day,  on  which  they  think  we  ought  to  express  an 
opinion,  &c.  &c. 

Then  there  is  the  race  of  publishers,  who  are  ordinarily 
a  fruitful  '^fons  et  origo  malorum^^  to  unhappy  editors.  It 
is  true,  indeed,  that  we  ourselves  are  not  so  subject  to  in- 
conveniences from  this  quarter  as  the  editor  of  a  Protestant 
periodical  enjoying  the  same  circulation  would  be.  For  there 
are  but  few  Catholic  books  published  in  England  and  Ireland; 
and,  speaking  generally^  Protestant  publishers  have  not  yet 
learnt  that  there  is  a  considerable  number  of  their  Catholic 
fellow-countrymen  who  are  interested  in  literary  matters,  and 
who  are  anxious  both  to  know  what  new  books  are  appearing, 
and  whether  they  are  written  ably  or  otherwise,  and  also  to 
have  the  opinion  of  some  competent  judge,  as  to  whether  the 
general  subjects  of  which  they  treat  are  handled  in  such  a 
manner  as  to  be  dangerous  to  the  faith  and  morals,  or  offensive 
to  the  feelings  of  Catholic  readers.  For  this  reason,  then,  our 
library-table  does  not  groan  under  "  presentation  copies"  in 
the  same  way  as  that  of  a  Protestant  editor  may  be  supposed 
to  do.  Nevertheless,  we  are  not  wholly  exempt  from  some  of 
the  inconveniences  to  which  we  allude ;  and  we  are  not  sorr 
to  have  this  opportunity  of  saying  a  few  w^ords  about  them. 
A  year  or  two  ago,  a  new  quarterly  periodical  was  started  in 
London,  the  characteristic  excellence  of  which,  as  set  forth  in 
its  prospectus,  was  to  be  its  unimpeachable  honesty,  and  its 
independence  of  all  bookselling  connection.  It  was  stated  by 
its  projectors,  that  literary  criticism  had  degenerated,  or  was 
rapidly  degenerating,  into  a  mere  sordid  traffic;  that  it  had 
become  *' but  a  bookseller's  bellman  ;"  that  it  "represented, 
not  the  brains,  but  the  breeches-pockets"  of  the  literature  o. 
the  day  ;  in  a  word,  that  the  several  Reviews  were  so  man\ 
**  puffing  advertisements"  belonging  to  certain  great  houses  iu 
the  trade.  Now  it  is  no  part  of  our  present  purpose  to  ii 
quire  what  degree  of  truth  there  may  be,  or  whether  there 
any,  in  the  allegations  thus  summarily  brought  against  tl 


The  Life  of  an  Editor,  513 

multiplied  legions  of  Protestant  Reviews ;  neither,  again,  do 
we  propose  to  inquire  whether  similar  complaints  might  with 
justice  be  made  concerning  any  Catholic  Reviews,  either 
existing  or  defunct.  Our  concern  to-day  is  with  ourselves ; 
and  we  are  anxious  to  put  on  record — what,  indeed,  we  had 
thought  was  sufficientl}^  known,  but  for  certain  rumours,  and 
certain  more  substantial  letters,  that  have  reached  us,  clearly 
showing  the  contrary ;  namely — that  this  Review  is  wholly 
independent  of  any  bookseller  s  connection  whatever.  The 
Ramhler  is  absolutely  and  entirely  our  own  property;  that  is, 
the  property  of  the  editor,  not  of  the  publisher ;  and  our 
criticisms  are  determined  by  the  merits  of  the  work  criticised, 
not  by  the  name  of  the  bookseller  which  stands  at  the  foot  of 
the  title-page.  Should  the  house  of  Messrs.  Burns  and  Lam- 
bert give  forth  to  the  world  some  atrocious  translation  of  a 
foreign  w^ork,  or  commit  any  other  offence  against  the  com- 
monweal of  Catholic  literature,  it  would  be  registered  in  these 
pages  with  the  same  honesty,  and  commented  on  with  the 
same  severity,  as  if  it  had  proceeded  from  the  respected  press 
of  Messrs.  Jones,  Brown,  and  Robinson,  or  any  of  the  mighty 
potentates  of  Marlborough  Street,  New  Burlington  Street, 
Albemarle  Street,  or  Paternoster  Row.  We  know  that  our 
publishers  are  far  too  high-minded,  and  have  too  sincere  a 
concern  for  the  interests  of  Catholic  literature,  to  wish  for  one 
moment  that  it  should  be  otherwise  ;  indeed,  at  one  time, 
when  we  were  anxious,  for  certain  private  reasons  of  our  own, 
that  they  should  take  the  property  of  this  Journal  off  our 
hands,  the  offer  was  decb'ned  partly  on  this  very  ground,  that 
a  Review  which  was  the  'property  of  a  bookseller  could  not 
be  so  independent  in  its  criticisms  and  its  general  character  as 
a  Review  ought  to  be.  But  even  were  it  otherwise,  were  our 
publishers  as  anxious  to  restrain  our  liberty  as  they  have 
shown  themselves  unwilling  to  do  so,  the  result  would  still  be 
the  same,  for  this  simple  reason,  that,  be  their  will  what  it 
may,  they  are  absolutely  without  power,  as  long  as  we  con- 
tinue to  hold  the  property  in  our  own  hands,  and  to  publish 
at  our  own  risk.  Are  they  offended  at  any  criticism  we  have 
made  upon  their  publications?  Let  them  settle  their  accounts 
with  us  immediately,  and  we  shall  have  no  difficulty  in  finding 
a  hearty  welcome  elsewhere.  But  enough  upon  these  per- 
sonal concerns ;  on  which  we  should  not  have  entered,  how- 
ever, without  a  reason. 

We  were  saying,  that  the  publishers  were  often  a  very 
sharp  thorn  in  the  sides  of  an  editor ;  speaking  of  an  editor  in 
the  abstract,  or  of  the  word  editor.  One  man  is  discontented 
because  a  handsome  and  costly  volume  which  he  sent  was  very 


514  The  Life  of  an  Editor, 

coldly  noticed,  or  perhaps  even  sharply  censured ;  another  is 
heard  to  express  his  disappointment  that  the  review  did  not 
contain  some  pointed  compliment  which  would  have  looked 
well  in  an  advertisement,  such  as  "  unparalleled  in  thought, 
and  brilliant  in  expression  ;"  "  pre-eminently  the  book  of  the 
season;"  *'  most  classical  in  its  Latin  quotations,  and  perfect  in 
the  declensions  of  the  Greek  nouns,"  &c.  Some  publishers 
measure  the  value  of  a  notice  by  the  number  of  lines  in 
which  it  is  expressed,  and  are  clamorous  to  have  their  books 
made  the  subject  of  special  articles  ;  whilst  others  only  ask 
to  have  them  briefly  but  pointedly  recommended  amongst  the 
Short  Notices.  Sometimes  we  are  censured  for  unnecessary 
delay,  because  we  are  not  satisfied  to  run  through  the  table 
of  contents  and  the  index  of  some  valuable  work,  and  so  in- 
sert a  worthless  notice  ten  days  after  the  sheets  are  out  of  tlie 
printer's  hands,  but  choose  rather  to  wait  another  month,  that 
we  may  give  an  opinion  which  we  shall  not  afterwards  wish  to 
retract.  Sometimes,  again,  we  excite  a  publisher's  wrath 
because  we  have  taken  no  notice  of  his  third,  fourth,  or  for- 
tieth edition  of  some  most  diminutive  6roc//wre,  as  well  known, 
and  perhaps  as  uninteresting  to  the  public,  as  the  *  A  B  C  to  a 
charity-school-boy ;  in  other  words,  because  we  have  not  given 
him  an  advertisement  ^rai/5.  Some  of  our  contemporaries  have 
adopted  a  convenient  mode  of  shelving  all  such  books  as  they 
do  not  think  it  worth  while  to  give  any  definite  ppinion  upon 
(or,  at  least,  not  at  present),  by  announcing  them  ail  togetlier 
as  "  books*received."  Certainly,  some  general  formula  would 
seem  to  be  wanted,  under  which  may  be  classed  all  those 
works  towards  which  an  editor  may  be  excused  for  feeling 
perfect  indifference.  A  friend,  to  whom  we  are  greatly  in- 
debted for  assistance  in  the  critical  department  of  our  Journal, 
has  supplied  us  with  such  a  formula ;  and  if  it  lack  somewhat 
of  that  brevity  which  would  be  desirable,  yet  it  must  be  al- 
lowed that  it  is  quite  as  expressive  as  the  circumstances  will 
allow.  It  runs  thus  :  "  If  any  good  is  likely  to  arise  from 
the  perusal  of  this  work — and  we  are  not  prepared  to  say  that 
there  is  not — we  are  glad  to  see  that  it  has  been  published  ; 
but  if  710  good  is  likely  to  arise — and  we  are  not  prepared  to 
say  that  there  is — transeat.'" 

Next  to  the  publishers  come  the  authors,  to  whom,  in- 
deed, a  great  deal  of  what  has  been  said  about  publishers 
equally  applies;  but  who  have  (in  addition)  certain  special 
grievances  of  their  own,  which  often  cause  them  to  be  a  fruit- 
ful source  of  trouble  to  the  race  of  editors.  They  forget  that, 
when  once  a  work  is  published,  it  becomes  in  a  manner  public 
property ;  and  that  it  is  the  special  province  and  privilege  of 


The  Life  of  an  Editor.  515 

critics  to  judge  of  what  is  thus  set  before  them,  and  often  to 
form  a  different  estimate  of  its  value  from  that  assigned  to  it 
by  its  too  affectionate  parent.  They  therefore  wish  to  have 
their  say  in  reply  to  the  editorial  remarks,  and  must  prove  to 
him  that  it  is  quite  certain  they  understand  the  science  on 
which  they  have  ventured  to  write  far  better  than  he  does, 
and  that  he  has  done  them  gross  injustice.  A  painter  won- 
ders why  we  found  fault  with  the  foreshortening  of  the  Giant's 
nose  in  his  illustrated  edition  of  Jack  the  Giant  Killer  ;  it 
was  the  very  point  he  prided  himself  upon,  and  all  the  best 
judges  consider  that  it  was  a  perfect  triumph  of  art.  A  mu- 
sician thinks  that  we  might  have  noticed  the  pleasing  intro- 
duction of  the  kettle-drums  at  the  end  of  his  new  opera  of 
Tom  Thumb f  and  is  surprised  that  we  should  have  imagined 
that  Bellini  could  have  excelled  the  march  in  Part  III.,  which 
our  criticism  foolishly  asserted  to  have  been  borrowed  from 
the  Furitani.  A  translator  of  Terence  and  Euripides,  whose 
innumerable  and  extraordinary  blunders  clearly  proved  him 
to  be  ignorant  of  the  Greek  and  Latin  tongues,  writes  to  in- 
form us  that  he  had  no  opportunity  of  correcting  the  press, 
otherwise  he  should  certainly  have  amended  all  these  errors; 
and  when  we  take  no  notice  of  his  communication,  he  writes 
again,  complaining  that  our  original  article  and  our  subse- 
quent silence  have  done  him  a  serious  injury;  for  that,  having 
resigned  his  situation  as  teacher  of  the  dead  languages  in  the 
classical  academy  of  his  native  city,  he  cannot  now  obtain  a 
re-engagement  in  a  similar  capacity!  Now  we  need  hardly 
say,  that  an  editor  who  takes  advantage  of  his  position,  either 
by  undeserved  severity  of  criticism  in  the  first  place,  or  by 
the  suppression  of  an  author's  reply  in  the  second,  to  gratify 
any  feelings  of  private  pique,  envy,  revenge,  or  love  of  de- 
traction, is  most  grossly  deficient  in  the  very  elementary 
qualifications  requisite  for  his  office — to  say  nothing  of  the 
higher  obligations  of  moral  and  religious  duty,  from  which  an 
editor  is  not  supposed  to  be  exempted,  though  they  do  not 
happen  to  come  under  consideration  in  this  place  ;  still — an 
author  is  not  the  best  judge  of  the  merits  of  his  own  per- 
formances; and  as  long  as  the  reviewer  has  not  misstated 
facts,  made  false  quotations,  imputed  false  motives,  or  sinned 
in  any  other  way  against  the  laws  of  honourable  criticism, 
the  author's  best  and  wisest  course,  as  well  as  that  which  is 
most  convenient  to  the  editor  and  to  the  public,  is  to  remain 
silent ;  certainly  he  has  no  claim  either  upon  the  editor's 
time  or  space. 

We  have  spoken  of  the  petty  annoyances,  or  more  serious 
inconveniences,  which  sometimes  beset  an  editor  on  the  part 


516  The  Life  of  an  Editor. 

of  authors  reviewed  and  of  publishers ;  these  belong  to  what 
may  be  called  the  Foreign  Department  of  his  office.  There 
are  others  which  sometimes  arise  in  the  Home  Department 
also,  among  his  own  staff;  but  these  must  be  dealt  gently 
with,  for  they  are  not  for  profane  ears.  The  editor  of  a 
monthly  magazine  which  aims  at  instructing  as  well  as  amus- 
ing has  indeed  a  difficult  and  a  delicate  task.  On  the  one 
hand,  he  is  responsible  both  to  his  own  conscience  and  to  the 
public,  not  only  for  every  article  which  appears  in  his  pages 
as  a  whole,  but  also  for  every  jjart  of  every  article ;  for  every 
expression,  every  single  word.  On  the  other  hand,  ho  is 
bound  to  respect  the  natural  (and  very  proper)  sensitiveness 
of  every  contributor  for  the  integrity  of  his  own  productions. 
And  it  is  often  no  easy  matter  to  strike  the  balance  between 
the  respect  due  to  our  contributors  and  the  respect  due  to 
ourselves.  We  need  not  pursue  this  subject  further;  we  will 
only  say,  that  those  contributions  are  doubly  and  trebly  ac- 
ceptable to  the  editor  which  come  accompanied  by  a  note 
such  as  the  following — and  let  us  add  that  it  has  been  our 
privilege  to  receive  such  from  many  an  accomplished  writer, 
both  lay  and  clerical : — "  With  this  Ms.,  as  with  all  others  ] 
may  send,  we  must  have  no  reserve  with  each  other.  Meum 
and  tuum  should  not  exist  between  those  who  only  wish  to 
further  the  same  great  work.  Let  us  have  a  *  community  of 
goods'  in  this  matter  ;  and  let  me  send  you  a  paper  when  I 
can,  on  the  express  condition  that  you  shall  feel  bound  to  sup- 
press or  alter  it  ad  majorem  Dei  gloriamJ"^' 

No  one  but  the  editor  himself  can  tell  how  true  and  how 
lasting  are  his  obligations  to  such  writers  as  these.  It  is 
seldom  that  he  is  allowed  time  to  feel,  or  that  the  public  wili 
bear  with  him  if  he  attempts  to  express  all  that  he  happens 
to  feel ;  and  yet  he  would  be  ungrateful,  if  he  did  not  at  least 
thus  briefly  but  emphatically  acknowledge  the  debt  of  which 
he  is  so  conscious,  and  which  he  is  so  unable  adequately  to 
requite  by  any  pecuniary  remuneration. 

W^e  pass  by  all  the  minor  troubles  of  an  editor's  life,  such 
as  the  correcting  of  proof-sheets,  and  other  similar  trifles  v 
for  although  the  cleverness  of  printers  has  made  this  por- 
tion of  our  work  less  painful  than  it  would  have  been  in 
former  days,  yet  it  is  a  trouble ;  and  no  one  who  has  not  ex- 
perienced it  for  a  certain  length  of  time  has  any  idea  of  the 
patience,  and  exactness,  and  unflagging  attention,  which  it  re- 
quires. We  almost  fancy  we  could  graduate  at  Ilerculaneui 
after  editing  some  of  our  more  bulky  Quarterlies  through 
year  or  two  ;  and  at  the  end  of  our  task,  we  should  feci  bi 
•  This  is  a  literal  copy  of  a  note  we  received  some  months  since. 


The  Life  of  an  Editor.  517 

little  inclination  to  hang  up  the  sheets,  like  those  of  the 
Glasgow  Homer,  and  offer  a  reward  for  every  misprint.  How- 
ever, after  all,  this  is  but  a  minor  trouble  ;  and,  indeed,  all 
the  troubles  and  inconveniences  we  have  yet  enumerated  sink 
into  utter  insignificance  when  compared  with  that  which  is 
the  crowning  trouble  of  all,  the  labour  and  the  weariness  that 
are  often  inflicted  upon  editors  by  that  extensive  and  extend- 
ing class  of  the  human  family  whose  members  believe  them- 
selves called  to  the  vocation  of  authors.  One  day,  as  we  were 
leaving  our  house,  we  were  met  on  the  threshold  by  a  short, 
sharp-featured  little  man,  carrying  under  his  arm  what  seemed 
to  be  a  huge  folio,  tied  up  in  a  pocket-handkerchief.  For  a 
moment,  dim  visions  of  unpaid  taxes,  or  poor-rates,  or  church- 
rates,  floated  before  the  eyes  of  our  imagination:  yet  there  was 
something  about  the  physiognomy  of  our  guest  betokening  a 
certain  degree  of  diffidence  and  humility  not  altogether  con- 
genial to  the  face  of  a  tax-gatherer.  Moreover,  we  observed 
that  he  was  evidently  at  a  loss  how  to  address  us;  so  we  took 
the  initiative  ourselves,  and  inquired  into  the  nature  of  his  busi- 
ness. Our  question  was  immediately  met  by  another:  "  Pray, 
sir,  are  you  not  an  editor  ?"  The  stern  necessity  of  truth 
compelled  us  to  answer  in  the  affirmative.  "  Then,  sir,  would 
you  be  kind  enough  to  look  at  my  little  manuscript?"  Our 
spirit  sank  within  us,  as  we  took  the  measure  of  the  mysterious 
handkerchief,  whose  knots  were  now  about 'to  be  loosened. 
We  thought  to  ward  off  the  impending  catastrophe  by  asking 
the  subject  of  this  Ms.,  inwardly  resolving  that  it  was  a  sub- 
ject which  should  not  be  suitable  to  the  pages  of  the  Rambler. 
Our  cunning  was  in  vain.  "  Oh  !  it  was  upon  a  great  num- 
ber of  things."  As  far  as  we  could  make  out,  it  must  have 
been  upon  things  in  general,  and  nothing  at  all  in  particular. 
However,  it  was  impossible  to  plead  that  things  in  general 
were  not  suited  to  a  magazine  like  our  own  ;  so  we  had  re- 
course to  the  only  means  of  escape  which  seemed  open  to  us ; 
and  being  already  without  the  house,  we  fairly  ran  for  it. 
The  man  anxiously  inquired  if  we  could  not  recommend  him 
to  some  other  editor  wdio  was  less  occupied  than  ourselves ; 
but  in  mercy  to  our  brothers  in  the  profession,  we  withheld 
the  desired  information ;  thereby  doing  our  best  to  consign  to 
obscurity  some  deep  philosopher  perhaps  (who  knows  ?),  or 
some  brilliant  poet,  or  some  imaginative  novelist.  What 
specially  amused  us  in  this  little  adventure,  and  what  has 
led  to  our  relating  it  here,  was  the  notion  which  the  good 
man  evidently  entertained,  that  the  proper  definition  of  an 
editor  was,  a  rational  animal  the  subject-matter  of  whose  art 
or  science  was  Mss.  in  general ;  and  that  there  was  a  certain 


518  The  Life  of  an  Editor. 

number  of  these  animals  scattered  up  and  down  the  country, 
like  so  many  tailors  or  shoemakers,  always  on  the  look-out  for 
work ;  the  work,  namely,  of  sitting  in  judgment  on  unpub- 
lished Mss.  Speaking  from  our  own  experience,  we  are  in- 
clined to  think  that  some  such  idea  as  this  must  prevail  far 
more  generally  than  would  at  first  sight  be  supposed.  In  the 
-particular  instance  just  narrated,  we  suffered  no  inconvenience 
i*rom  the  delusion,  beyond  that  which  a  well-regulated  mind 
must  always  feel  at  the  necessity  of  doing  or  saying  something 
which  would  seem  to  be  ungracious.  We  do  not  always, 
however,  live  outside  our  houses;  and  the  Penny-post,  and 
the  Parcels  Delivery  Company,  and  the  several  railways  that 
overspread  the  land,  manage  to  penetrate  even  to  the  inner- 
most sanctuary  of  an  editor's  study,  and  often  crowd  his  table 
with  most  unwelcome  guests.  Sometimes  these  contributions 
come  from  unknown  hands,  without  any  token  whatever  of 
their  parentage,  like  infants  to  a  foundling-hospital;  and  after 
waiting  for  what  we  consider  a  reasonable  period  of  time  for 
some  claimant  to  make  his  appearance,  we  burn  them  (not 
the  infants,  but  the  Mss.).  Sometimes  they  are  accompanied 
by  little  notes,  anonymous  or  otherwise.  Sometimes  they 
have  been  wholly  unprovoked  by  any  thing  on  our  part; 
sometimes  they  are  a  punishment  brought  upon  us  by  some 
ambiguous  criticism,  or  an  unfortunate  suggestion  that  has 
•appeared  in  our  own  journal;  e.g.  in  noticing  the  first  at- 
tempts of  some  youthful  votary  of  the  Muses,  instead  of  saying 
at  once  that  the  verses  were  rubbish,  and  ought  to  have  been 
put  behind  the  fire,  we  have  humbly  imitated  the  critic  who, 
under  similar  circumstances,  expressed  an  opinion  that  the 
poem  before  him  "  would  be  read  when  Homer  and  Miltow 
were  forgotten,  hut  not  till  then;'  at  least,  we  have  imitated* 
this  critic  in  the  delicate  caution  with  which  he  approached 
the  unpleasant  portion  of  his  task, — in  the  silver  paper  with 
which  he  carefully'  wrapt  it  round, — but  we  have  failed,  we 
suppose,  to  imitate  him  in  the  truth-telling  precision  of  the 
concluding  words ;  we  have  aimed  at  being  facetious,  and 
have  become  obscure.  Thus,  we  have  said  of  Mr.  Ferdinand 
Brown,  that  although  his  poem  is  quite  beyond  our  powers  of 
criticism,  yet  that  the  author  might  aspire  to  the  fame  of 
Wordsworth  if  he  had  lived  amidst  lake  scenery,  and  had 
cultivated  his  talents  under  similar  advantages  and  with  the 
like  success ;  and  before  many  wrecks  are  over,  w^e  receive  a 
large  packet,  with  a  note,  stating  that  Mr.  Ferdinand  Brown 
has  taken  advantage  of  his  annual  vacation  from  Leadenhall 
Street  to  run  over  to  the  Swiss  Lakes,  in  consequence  of  our 
flattering  reconnnendation  ;  and  now  forwards  thirteen  hun- 


The  Life  of  an  Editor,  5 1 9 

dred  sonnets  in  blank  verse,  composed  amidst  the  tarns  and 
rills  of  Switzerland,  under  the  glaciers  of  the  snow-clad  Alps. 
We  are  requested  to  read  them  over ;  and  if  we  think  that 
sonnets  would  be  improved  by  rhymes,  to  add  them  to  the 
ends  of  the  verses.  Or,  again,  we  are  supposed  to  take  an 
interest  in  historical  or  biographical  subjects,  because  some 
contributor  happens  to  have  said  that  we  do  not  possess  a 
history  of  Central  Africa,  or  any  intelligible  biography  of 
Brian  Boromhe ;  and  straightway  we  receive  a  ponderoifs 
manuscript,  containing  materials  wliich  the  collector  tliinks 
might  be  worked  up  for  either  subject,  and  he  leaves  it  to 
us  to  advise  which  of  the  two  we  should  prefer;  that  is  to  say, 
he  wishes  to  know  whether  we  will  publish  any  thing  which 
he  can  write  upon  it.  We  once  heard  of  a  student  in  Rome 
who  had  composed  two  sonnets  in  honour  of  one  of  his  bre- 
thren, and  then  asked  an  old  professor  to  select  one  of  them 
for  printing.  The  professor  read  one,  and  added  quietly, 
"Print  the  other."  "But  you  have  not  read  it."  "No: 
but  it  cannot  be  worse  than  the  first."  An  editor  is  often 
disposed  to  answer  quite  as  plainly ;  but  he  remembers  that 
he  too  was  once  a  beginner,  and  was  (or  at  least  might  have 
been)  told  to  bloom  in  the  desert  air  of  his  own  study  until 
he  knew  more  about  the  business.  He  therefore  does  his  best 
to  handle  the  critic's  sceptre  with  mildness,  yet  with  truth ; 
"  neither  extenuating,  nor  setting  down  aught  in  malice." 

But  here  we  must  cease  our  dirge  over  the  calamities  of 
an  editorial  life:  only,  when  you  call  to  mind,  gentle  reader, 
all  that  has  been  said,  and  the  much  more  that  might  have 
been  said,  —  when  you  consider  the  quantity  of  matter  an 
editor  has  to  bring  together  from  various  quarters,  and  to  fit 
into  a  Procrustean  bed  of  five,  six,  or  seven  sheets,  as  the  case 
may  be,  by  a  given  day  in  every  month, — when  you  remember 
the  contributors,  the  authors,  and  the  publishers  he  has  to 
satisfy,  and  the  miscellaneous  and  changeable  public  he  has 
to  cater  for, — perhaps  you  will  be  more  tolerant  of  his  occa- 
sional failures  ;  you  will  not  be  surprised  that  somebody,  at 
least,  is  not  always  satisfied  with  the  result;  and  you  will 
certainly  agree  with  us  in  thinking,  that  of  the  two  elementary 
accomplishments,  reading  is  unquestionably  the  easier. 


520 


SUFFERINGS  OF  ENGLISH  NUNS  DURING  THE 
FRENCH  REVOLUTION. 

Ix\  our  last  Number  we  gave  an  account  of  the  suiFerings  of 
some  of  the  French  nuns  during  the  Revolution  in  that  country 
at  the  close  of  the  last  century.  To-day  we  propose  to  intro- 
duce to  our  readers  an  English  community  which  was  settled 
in  Paris  at  that  time,  and,  indeed,  had  been  residing  there  for 
more  than  a  hundred  years ;  but  was  then  obliged  to  fly  into 
England,  where  they  still  remain. 

The  community  to  which  we  refer  was  not  one  of  those 
that  was  founded  on  the  continent  immediately  after  the  dis- 
solution of  religious  houses  in  this  country  at  the  Reformation, 
but  only  a  filiation  from  one  of  them  ;  and,  like  many  others 
of  its  class,  it  suffered  not  a  little  from  the  action  of  the  penal 
laws  affecting  the  property  of  English  Catholics.  At  one  time 
it  is  recorded  in  their  annals  that  they  were  so  deeply  in  debt, 
even  to  their  ordinary  tradesmen,  the  butcher,  baker,  and 
brewer,  &c.,  that  these  persons  refused  to  give  them  anymore 
credit,  and  were,  moreover,  very  importunate  for  the  discharge 
of  the  debts  already  contracted.  The  poor  nuns,  in  their  dis- 
tress, were  driven  to  part  with  their  very  linen  ;  and  for  this 
purpose  they  intrusted  a  pair  of  sheets  to  a  woman  of  their  ac- 
quaintance, begging  her  to  dispose  of  them  as  well  as  she 
could.  Accordingly  she  took  them  to  a  charitable  gentleman, 
assuring  him  that  they  belonged  to  persons  of  quality,  now  re- 
duced to  great  poverty,  and  obliged  to  part  with  them  in  order 
to  obtain  food.  The  gentleman  professed  to  purchase  them  for 
four  louis-d'o7',  but  desired  the  woman  to  keep  the  sheets  till 
he  should  call  for  them.  In  fact,  however,  he  had  somehow 
guessed  to  whom  they  really  belonged,  and  immediately  took 
measures  to  inform  the  archbishop ;  and  obtained  permission^ 
from  him  that  the  necessities  of  this  poor  community  shouh 
be  published  in  all  the  churches  of  Paris  on  the  following 
Sunday.  The  good  nuns,  who  had  been  most  agreeably  sur^ 
prised  by  receiving  so  high  a  price  for  their  sheets,  knew  no-' 
thing  of  the  charitable  exertions  which  the  purchaser  was  now 
making  in  their  behalf;  so  that,  though  they  immediately  be- 
gan to  feel  tiie  beneficial  effects  of  those  exertions,  they  were 
altogether  ignorant  of  their  cause.  The  archbishop  himselfl 
sent  them  fifty  pistoles;  and  the  very  next  day  there  cam« 
considerable  charities  from  all  parts  of  the  town.  The  queen 
sent  a  ihous'dud  livres ;  and  other  noble  personages  smaller 
sums  of  money.    Even  the  poorest  tradesmen  brought  of  their 


Sufferings  of  English  Nuns,  521 

goods,  as  bread,  butter,  eggs,  &c. ;  the  very  labourers  brought 
at  night  the  money  they  had  earned  in  the  course  of  the  day, 
and  were  extremely  concerned  if  the  religious  showed  any 
unwillingness  to  receive  it.  Amongst  the  rest,  special  men- 
tion is  made  of  a  poor  boy  who  brought  one  evening  the  sum 
of  fifteen  sous^  which  was  all  he  had  earned  that  day  ;  and 
when  the  Mother  Celleraria  offered  to  refuse  it,  the  boy  burst 
into  tears,  fearing  that  it  was  rejected  because  of  the  smallness 
of  the  gift,  and  protesting  that  indeed  he  had  no  more,  or  he 
would  certainly  give  it.  The  relief  which  they  received  at  this 
time  not  only  delivered  them  from  the  burden  of  their  debts, 
but  even  provided  them  with  meal,  and  other  things  of  the 
same  kind,  sufficient  to  last  them  the  whole  year.  Moreover, 
it  was  the  occasion  of  their  receiving  for  some  time  regular 
pensions  to  a  considerable  amount  from  different  persons 
of  quality.  The  queen  undertook  to  pay  so  much  a  month 
for  their  butcher's  bill ;  another  did  the  same  for  their  account 
with  the  brewer ;  a  third  gave  them  all  their  bread,  &c. 

However,  we  must  pass  over  the  history  of  a  hundred  and 
thirty  years,  and  come  at  once  to  the  special  subject  of  these 
papers, — the  sufferings  of  these  nuns  during  the  French  Revo- 
lution. Their  alarms  began  with  the  taking  of  the  Bastile  on 
the  14th  of  July,  1789,  and  the  collecting  of  violent  mobs  in 
the  streets,  setting  fire  to  various  houses,  &c.  which  soon  fol- 
lowed. The  Mother  Prioress  was  at  that  time  in  a  most  suf- 
fering state,  and,  in  fact,  very  near  her  end  ;  and  the  sisters 
would  fain  have  kept  from  her  knowledge  the  disturbances  that 
were  going  on.  This,  iiowever,  was  impossible  :  seven  houses 
were  on  fire  in  different  parts  of  the  town  at  the  same  time; 
and  some  of  these  were  within  sight  of  the  Infirmary  windows, 
and  the  smell  of  the  smoke  came  full  into  the  room.  By  and 
by  a  mob  came  to  the  door,  and  asked  for  victuals.  They 
were  admitted  into  the  parlour,  had  as  much  bread  and  wine 
as  they  chose,  and  retired  very  quietly  ;  and  after  this  the 
sisters  were  not  subjected  to  any  actual  molestation  for  some 
time.  Meanwhile,  the  Mother  Prioress  was  taken  to  her  rest 
on  the  22d  of  November,  1789;  and  forty  days  afterwards, 
o;i  January  11th,  1790,  a  successor  was  duly  elected;  after 
which,  says  the  chronicle  which  we  are  following,  '*  things 
became  so  disturbed  as  to  put  an  end  to  all  regular  observ- 
ance." First  came  the  difiiculties  arising  out  of  the  intrusion 
of  the  constitutional  clergy.  The  nuns  received  an  order  to 
ring  the  bells  for  the  installation  of  the  intruded  Bishop  of 
Paris,  which  they  refused  to  obey.  Monsieur  the  Commissaire 
threatened^  but  no  harm  ensued.  Then  a  proces  verbal  was 
brought,  which  the  Prioress  was  required  to  sign,  declaring 


522  Sufferings  of  English  Nuns 

her  acceptance  of  certain  articles  in  a  printed  paper.     By  one 
of  these  articles  she  was  to  promise  to  keep  the  doors  of  the 
churcli  shut,  iind  to  let  no  one  enter  but  members  of  the  com- 
munity ;  by  another,  she  was  to  allow  no  one  to  say  Mass  in 
the  church  who  had  not  received  faculties   from  the  intruded 
bishop.    To  the  first  of  these  requisitions  she  promised  assent; 
for  many  other  churches  were  still  open  to  the  people,  and 
indeed  the  church  of  the  community  was,  strictly  speaking,  only 
a   private  one ;    but   the    second   was  distinctly  refused,   the 
Mother  Prioress  boldly  replying  that  she  neither  could,   nor 
would,  acknowledge    any  other  bishop  than  the  lawful   one, 
then  residing  in  exile  at  Chambery.     In  spite  of  this  refusal, 
the  commissaire  behaved  with  great  respect,  and  promised  the  ^ 
community  his  protection.    Next  came  the  intruded  curate  of  ■ 
the  parish,  in  propria  persona,  to  ask  if  they  would  receive  the  * 
procession  of  the  Most  Blessed  Sacrament  into  tlfeir  church  on 
the  Festival  of  Corpus  Christi.     They  pleaded,  in  reply,  the 
strict  order  they  had  received  to  keep  the  doors  always  closed. 
But  it  was  not  to  be  expected  that  this  plea  should  avail  them 
long.     So  when  the  curate  readily  undertook  to  get  the  re- 
quisite permission  for  disobeying  that  order  on  this  special 
occasion.  Mother  Prioress  w^as  obliged  to  confess  that,  although 
she  could  offer  no  resistance  to  any  violence  that  might  be 
used,  yet  she  never  would  voluntarily  open  the  doors  to  any 
but  the  lawful  pastor  of  the  parish.     Hereupon  the  curate  re- 
tired, and  sent  a  commissaire  in  his  place  ;  but  he  too  received 
the  same  answer,     tie  was  well  content,  however,  and  not  a 
little  surprised,  to  find  that  he  could  obtain  a  promise  tliat  the 
outer  walls  of  the  convent  should  be  hung  with  tapestry  and 
otlier  ornaments,  as  usual,  during  the  time  of  the  procession, 
the  Prioress  considering  this  to  be  a  matter  of  mere  police 
arrangement,  on  which  the  civil  authority  had  a  right  to  insist. 
Not  long  afterwards  the  convent  churches  were  all  re-opened, 
under  the  inspection  of  the  civil  magistrate  only,  and  the 
church  of  this  particular  convent  amongst  the  rest ;  and  it 
remained  open  until  the  imprisonment  of  the  nuns  on  the  3d 
of  October,   1793.      The  concourse  of  w^orshippers  was  im- 
mense, being  well  assured  that  here  at  least  there  was  no  dan-i; 
ger  of  meeting  with  a  constitutional  priest;  whereas  of  the  J 
other  churches  in  Paris  many  had  been  destroyed,  and  from 
others  the  lawful  curates  had  been  deposed. 

Of  course,  all  these  annoyances   and  difficulties,  arising* 
from  the  schismatical  position  of  so  large  a  number  of  the" 
clergy,  were  as  nothing  compared  with  what  came  afterwards. 
Nevertheless,  they  were  sufficiently  distressing  in  themselves 
to  a  community  of  religious  ladies,  who  were  anxious,  on  the 


I 


during  the  French  Revoluiion,  5'^S 

one  hand,  steadfastly  to  adhere  to  all  the  strictest  discipline 
of  the  Church,  and  freely  to  profess  their  religious  faith,  on 
every  proper  and  necessary  occasion,  yet,  on  the  other  hand, 
were  naturally  solicitous  to  avoid  all  rash  or  imprudent  mea- 
sures, that  might  draw  down  mischief  upon  themselves,  without, 
in  any  way  benefiting  the  cause  of  religion. 

The  first  official  domiciliary  visit  to  the  convent  was  early 
in  the  year  1793.  A  body  of  armed  men  presented  them- 
selves at  the  gate,  and  demanded  to  speak  with  the  Superior. 
The  summons  was  immediately  obeyed ;  and  the  Mother 
Prioress  inquired  into  the  nature  of  their  business.  This  they 
declined  to  communicate  ;  but  the  leader  of  the  band,  accom- 
panied by  two  others,  desired  to  be  conducted  to  her  apart- 
ment. When  there,  they  diligently  examined  her  correspon- 
dence. Finding  nothing,  however,  but  English  letters,  and  one 
from  a  deputy  of  the  National  Assembly  (for  all  other  French 
letters  had  been  carefully  destroyed),  they  expressed  them- 
selves satisfied,  and  retired.  After  this,  the  nuns  were  left  in 
peace  until  Holy  Thursday  in  the  same  year ;  when  the  house 
was  surrounded  by  300  soldiers,  and  most  rigidly  searched 
throughout,  under  the  pretext  of  discovering  certain  priests 
and  stores  of  arms  that  were  said  to  be  concealed  there.  The 
third  visit  was  made  in  the  night  of  the  7th  of  September, 
or  rather  at  two  o'clock  in  the  morning  of  the  8th.  The 
alarm  of  the  religious,  thus  violently  disturbed  from  their 
slumbers,  may  be  easily  conceived.  They  rose  and  dressed  as 
quickly  as  the}^  could,  the  officers  being  all  this  time  clamor- 
ous in  their  demands  for  immediate  admission.  When  they 
had  entered,  they  proceeded  to  institute  a  most  rigorous  search 
into  the  contents  of  every  cell  in  the  house,  and  placed  the 
seal  of  the  nation  on  all  letters  and  other  papers  which  they 
could  discover.  When  this  had  been  done,  the  poor  nuns 
were  allowed  to  go  into  the  choir,  excepting  the  Mother 
Prioress  and  another,  who  remained  with  the  men  till  five 
o'clock,  when  they  went  away  ;  and,  as  our  chronicle  adds, 
with  most  touching  simplicity,  *'  the  community  said  Matins." 
The  next  visit  was  productive  of  more  serious  consequences ; 
it  was  made  in  the  afternoon  of  the  3d  of  October,  1)93,  and 
it  ended  by  the  officers  declaring  all  the  inmates  of  the  house 
to  be  under  arrest,  and  leaving  a  guard  upon  the  premises,  to 
be  maintained  at  the  expense  of  the  community.  This  guard 
was  an  old  man,  and  disposed  to  behave  kindly  towards  them ; 
but  it  was  his  duty  to  see  that  nothing  passed  in  or  out  of 
the  convent  without  his  knowledge.  At  this  time  also  the 
officers  took  possession  of  all  the  documents,  deeds,  contracts, 
registers,  &c.  belonging  to   the   house,   excepting  only   the 


524f  Sufferings  of  English  Nuns 

parchments  on  which  the  religious  vows  were  written,  of 
which  each  nun  was  allowed  to  retain  her  own.  Moreover,  the 
effects  of  all  Englishmen  having  been  now  put  under  seques- 
tration, no  rents  were  any  longer  received  by  the  community; 
and  for  some  time  they  were  reduced  to  live  on  charity,  and 
such  means  as  they  could  obtain  by  the  sale  of  needlework  or 
any  other  trifles  which  they  could  make;  for  no  assistance  was 
given  them  by  the  public  committee  appointed  for  this  pur- 
pose until  the  day  before  Christmas. 

During  the  first  period  of  the  imprisonment  of  the  nuns 
in  their  own  house,  they  were  able  to  continue  all  their  re- 
ligious exercises  as  usual;  only  being  interrupted  from  time  to 
time  by  the  arrival  of  sundry  officers,  who  came  to  see  how 
many  spare  rooms  there  were,  and  how  many  prisoners  brought 
from  other  places  could  be  accommodated  in  them.  At  the 
same  time,  however,  they  assured  the  nuns  that  these  pri- 
soners should  only  be  ladies  of  their  own  country.  At  length, 
in  one  of  the  first  days  of  November,  a  very  zealous  Jacobin 
presented  himself  to  the  nuns,  and  produced  his  credentials  as 
their  future  jailer.  This  was  taken  as  an  intimation  that  other 
prisoners  might  soon  be  expected;  as  proved,  indeed,  to  be 
the  case.  On  the  7th  inst.  six  ladies  arrived,  accompanied  by 
two  maid-servants,  who  refused  to  be  separated  from  them ; 
and  presently  afterwards  the  house  wasjllled  with  prisoners  of 
all  ranks — men,  women,  and  children.  Many  of  these  pri- 
soners were  persons  of  the  highest  condition  ;  their  accommo- J 
dations,  however,  were  necessarily  of  the  meanest  kind.  Thef 
Duchess  of  Montmorency,  for  instance,  her  child  and  waiting- 
maid,  were  all  three  lodged  in  a  very  small  garret,  which 
had  been  used  as  a  sort  of  closet  by  the  infirmarian,  where 
she  kept  the  earthenware  required  for  the  use  of  the  sick. 
The  duchess's  maid  soon  fell  ill ;  and  her  mistress  so  assidu- 
ously waited  upon  her,  that  she  too  became  very  ill  herself. 
Her  father,  the  Duke  d'Aloine,  was  a  prisoner  in  the  same 
house,  and  went  upstairs  to  visit  his  daughter ;  but  "  his  grace 
being  extremely  large,  and  the  door  very  narrow,  he  could  not 
enter  the  room;  which  caused,"  we  are  told,  "some  diversion 
among  the  prisoners." 

Many  of  the  noble  families  that  were  thus  imprisoned 
gave  great  edification  by  their  exemplary  patience  under  all 
their  trials ;  there  were  others,  alas !  who  showed  that  their 
principles  were  according  to  the  times;  and  most  of  these  went 
out  of  the  prison  to  meet  their  death  in  a  state  of  infatuation, 
not  seeking  or  desiring  the  aid  of  any  spiritual  ministrationsi 
whatever.  A  few  made  good  use  of  the  respite  afforded  them] 
by  their  imprisonment;  and  to  these  God  often  vouchsafed,] 


during  the  French  Revolution, 


525 


in  a  wonderful  manner,  the  opportunity  of  approaching  the 
Sacrament  of  Penance.    One  lady,  in  particular,  who  had  long 
neglected  her  religious   duties,  and  who   earnestly  solicited 
the  prayers  and  assistance  of  the  nuns,  since  there  were  no 
means  of  obtaining  a  priest,  was  surprised  one  day  by  seeing 
her  uncle,  who  was  a  very  zealous  priest,  among  her  fellow- 
prisoners  :  from  him  she  had  the  happiness  of  receiving  all  the 
spiritual  aid  he  could  afford  her,  before  she  was  led  out  to 
execution.     Most  of  the  prisoners  behaved  very  respectfully 
to  the  religious  when  they  met  them  any  where  about  the 
house;  and  when,  after  a  long  and  rigorous  confinement  to 
their  few  and  small  apartments,  they  were  at  length  persuaded 
to  walk  out  into  the  garden,  the  other  prisoners  abandoned 
the  particular  walk  which  the  nuns  selected,  and  would  not 
disturb  them.     Still,  we  need  not  say  that  the  crowding  to- 
gether of  so  many  seculars  of  all  classes  into  a  religious  house, 
and  the  bringing  them  into  such  close  quarters  with  the  reli- 
gious themselves,  was  a  source  of  continual  distress  and  an- 
noyance in  a  thousand  ways.     One  night  a  French  Benedic- 
tine nun,  who  had  been  brought  there  from  another  house, 
was  dying ;  and,  of  course,  the  good  sisters  who  were  waiting 
upon    her  immediately  began  to  recite   the  prayers  for  the 
agonising  ;  whereupon  one  of  the  prisoners,  who  heard  them, 
got  up  and  expressed  great  displeasure  at  the  disturbance,  as 
he  called  it ;  and  they  were  obliged  to  be  more  cautious  for 
the  future.      Moreover,  many  of  the  gentlemen  retained  so 
much  of  their  national  gaiete,  even  in  their  misfortunes,  that 
they  were  often  skipping  and  dancing  about  the  courts  and 
dormitories,  much  to  the  annoyance  of  the  sisters.     Again, 
many  of  the  prisoners  had  a  very  great  dislike  to  the  religious 
habit,  and  joined  with  the  jailer  in  pressing  the  nuns  to  leave 
it  off.     The  commissaires,  also,  who  paid  them  official  visits 
occasionally,  urged  the  same  thing  ;  they  acknowledged  that 
they  had  no  orders  to  oblige  them  to  make  the  change,  but 
they  counselled  it  as  a  matter  of  prudence,  saying  that  they 
could  not  answer  for  the  consequences  if  the  mob  were  to  see 
them  in  their  habits.     A  number  of  ladies,  both  in  and  out  of 
the  convent,  provided  them  with  the  necessary  change  of  ap- 
parel (for  the  nuns  had  no  money  to  purchase  them  for  them- 
selves) ;  and  on  the  S9th  of  December,  to  the  great  grief  of  the 
community,  the  change  was  made. 

Already,  at  the  beginning  of  this  month,  they  had  lost 
their  confessor,  an  old  and  infirm  Benedictine  father,  against 
whom  the  jailer  conceived  a  special  aversion,  and  whom  he 
caused  to  be  removed,  therefore,  to  another  place  of  confine- 
ment; and  a  week  earlier  still,  they  had  ceased  to  enjoy  the 


526  Sufferings  of  English  Nuns 

blessing  of  hearing  Mass.  For  a  short  time  after  the  arrival 
of  the  prisoners,  the  community  continued  their  choir-duties 
as  usual ;  the  Blessed  Sacrament  was  still  reserved  in  the  taber- 
nacle, and  they  heard  Mass  daily. 

By  and  by  it  was  deemed  safer  not  to  keep  the  Blessed 
Sacrament  any  longer  in  the  tabernacle,  as  many   horrible 
profanations  had  already  been  committed  in  other  churches: 
nevertheless  they  took  the  precaution  of  retaining  the  lamp 
burning  as  usual,  so  that  if  any  change  for  the  better  should 
take  place  in  the  state  of  public  affairs,  it  might  be  restored 
without  notice.     As  much  of  the  church  plate  as  could  be 
spared,  had,  by  order  of  the  ecclesiastical  superiors,  been  sold 
at  a  very  early  period  of  the  Revolution ;  and  even  when  the 
commissaires  had  taken  away  the  only  silver  chalice  and  cibo- 
rium  that  was  left.  Mass  was  still  said,  a  chalice  and  ciborium  of 
pewter-gilt  being  used.    On  a  later  occasion,  the  commissaires 
carried  off  the  silver  monstrance,  thurible,  and  crucifix,  and  even 
a  little  silver  reliquary  which  the  Mother  Prioress  wore  about 
her  own  person,  saying  that  "  the  nation  had  need  of  all."     On 
the  25th  of  November,  however,  a  sixth  official  visit  was  made 
to  the  convent;  and  this  time  all  the  brass,  copper,  and  others 
metals  belonging  to  the  church  were  seized,  and  such  a  worM 
of  devastation  committed  as  entirely  prevented  the  saying  on 
Mass  for  the  future.     The  scene  which  the  church  presented.^ 
on  this  occasion  is  described  by  an  eye-witness  as  most  horri- 
ble.    Dreadful  figures,  in  all  kinds  of  disguises,  came  rushing^ 
in,  "  one  driving  the  other,  and  seeming  to  exult  in  the  work  J 
they  were  sent  to  do.     They  ran  up  and  down  the  church, 
snatching,  tearing  down  curtains  and   the  shrines  of  saints, 
crosses,  pictures,  &c. ;  throwing  about  the  holy  water ;  casting 
things  down  to  the  ground,  then  kicking  them  up  into  the 
air ;  jumping,  racing  about,  calling  on  each  other's  names  with 
loud  laughter,  &c.    Then  they  collected  all  together,  and  car- 
ried the  things  into  the  vestry  at  the  bottom  of  the  church, 
and  placed  the  seal  of  the  nation  on  the  door.     Next  they 
passed  into  the  other  vestry,  and  there  one  of  these  irreligious 
creatures  dressed  himself  like  an  abbess,  and  taking  a  crosier 
in  his  hand,  came  in  mockery  into  the  chapter-room,  singing, 
Veniy  sponsa  Christi.''     They  also  threw  open  all  the  large 
cupboards,  in  which  the  vestments  and  other  church  ornaments 
were  kept,  pulled  down  the  cupboards,  and  took  them  into  the 
courtyard  to  fit  up  rooms  for  prisoners,  and  carried  the  vest- 
ments away.    I>Ieanwhile,  the  utmost  which  the  poor  religious 
could  do,  was  to  remove  as  many  of  their  office-books  -and 
other  books  of  devotion  as  they  could  lay  their  hands  upon, 
from  the  choir  to  their  own  private  apartments.    But  not  even 


during  the  French  Revolution.  527 

these  cells  were  destined  to  be  safe  from  the  inquisitorial 
search,  sometimes  of  the  regular  commissaires,  sometimes  of 
private  individuals,  whose  zeal  would  not  allow  them  to  wait 
ibr  an  official  appointment.  On  one  occasion  they  discovered 
a  few  old  flowers  and  other  such  things  belonging  to  a  little 
chapel  of  our  Lady  in  the  cemetery.  The  discovery  of  these 
religious  objects  seemed  to  be  considered  a  great  conquest,  and 
they  were  carried  off  in  triumph  as  the  property  of  the  nation. 
At  another  time  they  obliged  the  nuns  to  empty  their  pockets, 
turned  over  their  books  to  see  if  there  were  any  pictures  in 
them  that  gave  offence,  "  such  as  Sacred  Hearts,  &c. ;"  in 
short,  the  nuns  were  continually  molested  by  these  visitations, 
and  by  the  most  rigorous  search  which  never  failed  to  accom- 
pany them. 

Meanwhile  new  encroachments  had  continually  been  made 
upon  the  portion  of  the  house  originally  assigned  to  them, 
until  at  length  two  were  obliged  to  live  together  in  almost 
every  cell;  and  in  the  depth  of  winter  the  jailer  deprived 
them  of  every  room  having  a  chimney  in  which  they  were 
able  to  meet  together,  and  it  was  a  fortnight  or  more  before 
they  could  get  a  stove  fixed  in  the  only  room  which  was  left, 
large  enough  for  them  to  take  their  meals  in.  They  were  also 
reduced  to  great  straits  for  want  of  money.  The  allowance 
which  had  at  first  been  made  to  them,  lasted  until  May  1794; 
but  after  that  time,  although  they  had  been  told  to  ask  for 
more  as  soon  as  they  wanted  it,  not  a  penny  could  they  obtain. 
They  managed  to  gain  something  by  their  work ;  but  provi- 
sions of  all  kinds  were  both  scarce  and  dear.  "  We  were 
obliged  to  keep  a  Lent,"  they  say,  "  from  the  beginning  of 
Septuagesima  till  some  time  after  Pentecost.  About  a  pound 
of  meat  was  allowed  once  in  five  days  to  each  sick  prisoner. 
One  of  the  nuns  who  greatly  needed  it  got  some  two  or  three 
times,  after  which  the  jailer  brought  no  more,  and  said  there 
was  none  to  spare.  Some  of  the  prisoners,  however,  were 
very  kind  in  giving  such  assistance  as  they  could ;  those  who 
could  get  fowls  from  their  tenants,  farmers  in  the  country, 
would  often  bring  us  the  remains  of  them,  which  was  a  great 
help  for  the  sick."  By  and  by  all  money  belonging  to  any  of 
the  prisoners  was  taken  from  them,  and  thrown  into  a  common 
fund  ;  from  whence  a  certain  fixed  sum  was  given  every  day  to 
all  the  prisoners  alike,  the  nuns  as  well  as  the  rest ;  and  the 
nuns  were  even  obliged  to  take  their  meals  at  the  same  table 
with  the  others.  But  this  was  only  about  a  week  or  ten 
days  before  they  were  removed  to  another  prison  ;  for  by  this 
time,  all  their  effects  having  been  plundered,  their  keeper  was 

VOL.  I. NEW  SERIES.  O  O 


528  Sufferings  of  English  Nans 

very  anxious  that  they  should  be  taken  elsewhere  as  soon  as 
possible. 

On  the  15th  of  July,  1794,  between  ten  and  eleven  in  the 
morning,  an  officer  came  and  announced  to  them  their  imme- 
diate removal ;  but  without  saying  whither  they  were  going. 
He  proceeded  to  institute  a  most  minute  search  into  the  con- 
tents of  every  cell,  even  ripping  open  pincushions  to  see  that 
nothing  was  concealed  in  them,  putting  his  knife  to  the  bottom 
of  the  tea-canister,  &c.  &c. ;  and  then  gave  out  to  each  nun 
what  he  was  pleased  to  allow  them  to  carry  with  them,  viz. 
such  secular  clothing  as  they  happened  to  have,  their  Brevia- 
ries, and  a  few  other  books.  Each  parcel  was  made  up  sepa- 
rately, one  for  each  cell,  and  then  carefully  fastened  and  sent 
down  to  the  greffe^  that  nothing  might  be  added  to  it.  And 
this  tedious  process  was  continued  without  intermission  all 
through  the  night,  so  that  none  of  the  religious  could  go 
to  bed;  and  it  was  not  all  over  until  two  or  three  o'clock  in 
the  afternoon  of  the  16th.  Then  every  cell  was  emptied  and 
locked  up,  so  that  the  religious  had  no  where  to  put  them- 
selves ;  for  by  this  time  the  coaches,  which  had  been  in  wait- 
ing all  the  morning,  were  gone  away,  and  it  was  necessary  to 
send  for  others.  Some  few  of  the  prisoners  took  some  of 
them  to  their  own  rooms,  that  they  might  get  a  little  rest;  but 
the  others  were  obliged  to  stand  together  for  some  hours  in 
the  dormitory.  Moreover,  a  difficulty  occurred  which  threat- 
ened to  bring  worse  evils  in  its  train  than  mere  delay.  In 
examining  one  of  the  trunks  of  linen  in  the  house,  a  red 
nightcap  was  found,  which  the  father  confessor  of  the  convent 
had  long  since  brought  from  England,  and  used  to  wear  when 
he  suffered  from  rheumatism  in  the  head.  The  officer,  how- 
ever, chose  to  look  upon  it  as  a  sure  token  of  complicity  in  a 
plot  to  bring  about  a  counter-revolution  ;  for  it  happened  that  at 
that  time  the  bonnet  rouge  was  a  great  object  of  suspicion,  and 
actually  forbidden.*  He  therefore  sent  it  to  the  authorities 
of  the  section,  together  with  some  little  pictures  of  the  Sacred 
Heart,  which  had  been  found  in  another  cell.  The  Mother 
Prioress,  and  one  or  two  of  the  religious,  were  summoned  be- 
fore the  commiss aires  of  the  section,  and  a  proces  verbal  of  the 
fact  was  drawn  up,  which  they  were  made  to  sign.  The  ma- 
gistrates professed  to  look  upon  it  in  a  very  serious  light ;  and 
as  some  of  the  officers  who  liad  been  searching  the  house  had 
repeatedly  assured  tliem  that  in  the  place  whither  they  were 
going  they  would  want  nothing, — which  was  supposed  to  im- 
ply that  they  would  be  sent  to  another  life, — the  poor  nuns 
•  This  oflScer  was  himself  executed  on  the  fall  of  Robespierre. 


during  the  French  Revolution.  529 

knew  not  what  they  might  not  expect  as  a  consequence  of 
having  a  red  nightcap  and  a  few  pictures  of  the  Sacred  Heart. 
At  last  tliey  were  ordered  to  come  down  into  the  court- 
yard ;  and  there  they  were  all  put  into  a  dark  dungeon  where 
there  was  nothing  but  a  heap  of  straw,  and  which  had  lately 
been  made  a  place  of  punishment  for  any  breach  of  discipline 
in  the  prison.  From  hence  they  were  called  forth  by  name, 
three  at  a  time  ;  and  passing  between  a  number  of  soldiers,  who 
stood  on  either  side  with  drawn  swords  in  their  hands,  they 
were  put  into  coaches, — three  religious  and  a  guard  into  each 
coach.  It  was  about  eleven  o'clock  at  night  when  they  really 
left  their  home;  and  at  one  the  following  morning  they  were 
at  Vincennes.  They  had  not  slept,  and  scarcely  eaten  any  thing, 
during  the  last  forty  hours ;  and  now  they  were  detained  for 
some  time  at  the  prison-gates,  the  jailer  being  in  bed.  Even 
after  their  admission,  it  was  necessary  for  them  to  remain  in  the 
kitchen  whilst  the  guards  proceeded  to  select  their  apartments  ; 
and  for  refreshment  they  could  get  nothing  but  bread  and  water; 
to  which,  however,  they  w^ere  fortunately  able  to  add  a  little 
wine  of  their  own,  from  what  had  been  given  to  the  Mother 
Prioress  on  their  departure  by  one  of  the  prisoners.  After 
having  been  made  to  pay  for  the  hire  of  the  carriages  which 
had  brought  them  to  Vincennes,  and  having  their  pockets 
searched  by  the  jailer's  wife  and  another  woman,  they  were 
conducted  to  their  new  place  of  confinement.  They  ascended 
a  stone  spiral  staircase  of  150  steps,  being  lighted  by  men  with 
torches  in  their  hands  stationed  at  various  intervals  of  the  ascent, 
and  passing  by  a  number  of  doors,  secured  by  such  locks  and 
bolts  as  struck  terror  into  the  souls  of  the  good  nuns,  who  had 
never  seen  such  instruments  before.  At  length  they  paused 
before  a  large  folding-door  provided  with  the  same  formidable- 
looking  bolts ;  and  they  were  ushered  into  a  suite  of  four 
apartments,  and  there  left  with  a  candle  and  several  buckets 
of  water,  out  of  which  they  were  mockingly  invited  to  drink. 
*'  We  were  so  fiitigued  that  we  made  no  ceremony,  but  each 
found  herself  a  mattress  and  lay  down  in  her  clothes  to  repose; 
and  we  were  so  weary  that  1  believe  all  slept  a  little."  It  was 
late  in  the  next  day  before  any  one  came  near  them ;  and  it 
was  not  without  difficulty  that  they  succeeded  in  getting  a 
very  small  jug  of  hot  water,  to  make  some  tea  for  the  invalids. 
They  found  they  had  a  fellow-prisoner  in  their  rooms ;  one 
who  had  been  tried  for  her  life,  but  was  sentenced  only  to 
imprisonment.  At  first  they  looked  upon  her  with  suspicion, 
as  being  probably  a  spy  upon  them  ;  and  she  in  her  turn  had  a 
strong  objection  to  nuns.  However,  she  soon  found  that  their 
society  was  a  great  solace  to  her  in  her  confinement,  and  they 


530  Sufferings  of  English  Nuns 

learnt  no  longer  to  mistrust  her.  Some  time  in  the  course  of 
the  day  their  boxes  were  broup^ht  up  to  their  rooms,  by  which 
means  they  recovered  their  Breviaries,  and  were  able  to  say 
office  again,  which  for  two  days  had  been  interrupted,  and  to 
resume  their  other  duties  as  far  as  circumstances  permitted. 
All  their  money  was  taken  away,  and  the  only  meal  in  the 
day  which  was  provided  for  them  was  dinner.  This  was 
served  at  any  time,  from  one  to  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon, 
that  happened  to  suit  the  jailer's  convenience,  and  seems  to 
have  been  but  a  very  meagre  affair.  Nevertheless,  they  were 
obliged  to  put  aside,  even  from  this  scanty  allowance,  a  little 
bread  and  vegetables  for  supper;  and  any  wine  they  could 
spare  was  exchanged  for  milk,  to  mix  with  their  tea  in  the 
morning.  As  to  butter,  they  had  none  ;  and  after  a  few  days 
their  little  stock  of  sugar  was  exhausted.  Under  these  joriva- 
tions,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  several  of  the  sisters  fell 
sick  with  agues,  &c. ;  and  the  Mother  Prioress  became  so 
alarmingly  ill,  as  to  require  two  of  the  sisters  to  be  in  constant 
attendance  upon  her  both  day  and  night  for  a  period  of  five 
or  six  weeks.  She  recovered  at  last,  and  they  attributed  her 
recovery  to  the  intercession  of  St.  Winifred ;  for  at  a  time 
when  she  seemed  to  be  in  a  state  of  insensibility,  she  asked 
for  a  stone  from  her  well  which  they  happened  to  have 
amongst  them,  and  desired  them  to  make  a  novena  in  honour 
of  the  saint,  whose  litany  also  they  recited  daily  until  she  was 
restored  to  health.  Another  of  the  sisters,  who  was  naturally 
of  a  very  weak  constitution,  was  so  overcome  by  the  bodily 
hardships  and  mental  anxieties  of  this  imprisonment,  that  she 
gradually  sank  under  them,  and  lost  her  reason.  The  good  sis- 
ters were  extremely  desirous  of  still  keeping  her  amongst  them  ; 
but  when  the  Mother  Prioress  fell  ill,  the  officers  and  medical 
attendants  of  the  house  insisted  upon  her  removal  to  the  hos- 
pital, where  they  said  she  would  have  the  benefit  of  baths  and 
other  remedies,  which  could  not  be  procured  in  the  prison  J 
This  was  a  most  severe  trial  to  the  community  ;  it  is  recordew 
in  their  chronicles  as  **  the  cruellest  stroke  they  met  with;*^ 
nor  could  they  ever  succeed  in  learning  what  had  become  of 
their  sister  until  shortly  before  their  own  release  from  Vin- 
cennes,  when  a  friend,  who  had  been  most  indefatigable  in 
making  inquiries  after  her,  discovered  that  she  died  in  the 
Hotel  Dieu  at  Paris  on  the  13th  of  October,  1794. 

It  was  not  long  after  these  religious  were  removed  to  Vin- 
cennes,  that  the  death  of  Robespierre  produced  a  considerable 
amelioration  in  the  condition  of  most  prisoners.  Amongst  the 
rest,  the  woman  who  had  been  confined  with  them  was  now 
set  at  liberty,  and  returned  not  long  afterwards  to  pay  them  a 


during  the  French  Revolution,  531 

visit.  The  Prioress  of  the  Carmelites  also  came  to  visit  them, 
and  to  see  an  English  nun  of  her  community  who  had  been 
sent  to  join  her  fellow-countrywomen  in  this  house  when 
first  the  Carmelites  were  dispersed  ;  and  who  was  now  there- 
fore imprisoned  with  them.  The  prioress  wished  to  obtain 
her  liberty ;  but  rather  than  be  obliged  to  resume  life  in  the 
world  in  Paris,  slie  chose  to  remain  in  prison  at  Vincennes. 

By  and  by  rumours  reached  our  English  nuns  that  they  too 
were  to  obtain  their  liberty,  or  at  least  were  to  be  taken  back 
to  Paris ;  but  first  they  were  removed  to  another  part  of  tlie 
castle  of  Vincennes,  in  consequence  of  certain  alterations 
which  were  going  on  in  the  rooms  below  their  own,  and  which 
endangered  the  security  of  that  part  of  the  building.  After 
many  expostulations  with  their  jailer,  they  were  removed  to 
safer  but  for  more  confined  and  inconvenient  quarters,  being 
a  low  entresol,  two  garret-shaped  rooms  with  arched  ceiling, 
with  a  doorway  between  them,  but  no  door,  and  such  a  draught 
of  wind  both  from  the  outer  door  and  the  windows  as  entirely 
neutralised  all  the  heat  of  the  fire.  They  had  reason,  how- 
ever, to  congratulate  themselves  upon  the  change  ;  for  the  very 
next  day  the  ceiling  of  the  room  above  their  former  habita- 
tion, in  which,  by  the  by,  were  confined  murderers  and  other 
criminals  of  the  very  worst  class — so  savage  that  not  even  the 
jailer  ever  visited  them  without  the  companionship  of  a  fierce 
dog  and  some  armed  guards — fell  through,  and  a  portion  of 
it  was  precipitated  into  the  room  beneath. 

At  length,  on  the  7th  of  November,  1794,  they  were  told 
that  they  must  now  return  to  Paris.  They  had  already  re- 
ceived intelligence  of  this  from  some  friends  without  the  pri- 
son ;  and  moreover,  that  they  were  to  be  restored  to  their  old 
convent.  Accordingly,  they  left  Vinceinies  in  very  good 
spirits,  riding  in  a  covered  waggon  which  had  been  provided 
for  them, — all  but  four,  for  whom  there  was  no  room,  and  who 
were  therefore  obliged  to  walk  with  the  guards.  On  the  road 
they  learnt  to  their  great  disappointment  that  they  were  not 
going  to  their  own  house,  but  to  the  convent  of  the  English 
Augustinians  at  the  Fosse  St.  Victor,  where  arrived  also,  a 
day  or  two  afterwards,  the  other  community  of  English  nuns 
from  the  Rue  Charenton,  Faubourg  St.  Antoine.  Here  they 
fared  very  well  as  far  as  their  food  was  concerned ;  for  a  cook 
was  appointed  to  provide  for  them  all,  and  a  certain  sum  was 
allowed  him  every  day  for  each  person.  Each  community 
dined  in  their  own  rooms,  having  fetched  their  dinner  from 
this  common  kitchen  at  their  own  appointed  hour.  But  they 
all  soon  Ibund  that,  though  so  well  provided  with  food,  it  was 
at  the  cost  of  considerable  privation  as  far  as  their  other  ne- 


5S2  Sufferings  of  English  Nuns 

cessities  were  concerned ;  for  they  had  to  procure  their  owr 
firing,  tea  and  sugar,  washing,  &;c.  &c. ;  and  their  slender  stock 
of  money  was  soon  exhausted.  They  petitioned,  therefore, 
that  the  daily  allowance  might  be  made  them  in  money  instead 
of  in  kind;  and  after  some  time  the  petition  was  granted. 
Moreover,  our  poor  nuns  suffered  a  great  deal  from  want  oi 
proper  furniture.  The  Augustinians  had  only  been  able  tc 
provide  them  with  two  bedsteads,  and  the  beds  of  all  the 
others  were  laid  upon  the  cold  and  damp  brick  floor.  The 
winter  was  most  unusually  severe,  so  that  even  the  very  fire- 
wood which  they  got,  and  for  which  they  had  to  pay  a  great 
price,  "  was  half  ice ;  and  though  we  broke  off  all  the  ice  \' 
could,  instead  of  burning,  the  water  used  to  run  down  fro 
the  fire  about  our  room."  Meanwhile,  their  own  furniture 
was  all  under  lock  and  key  and  the  seal  of  the  nation,  in  theii 
own  convent;  and  with  very  great  difficulty  they  succeeded  a' 
length  in  getting  permission  to  send  for  it.  When  this  arrived 
they  were  able  to  make  themselves  much  more  comfortable 
being  no  longer  obliged  to  sleep  upon  the  damp  floor,  anc 
having  many  old  broken  articles  which  they  could  use  as  fire- 
wood. 

Here  then  they  remained,  all  the  three  communities  ira 
prisoned  together,  but  without  the  inconvenience  of  an} 
secular  prisoners,  until  the  1st  of  March,  1795,  which  wa; 
also  the  first  Sunday  in  Lent.  On  that  day  the  keepe: 
announced  to  them  that  they  were  all  at  liberty ;  but  sinci 
they  were  in  an  English  convent,  they  might  remain  there  i 
they  pleased.  The  keeper  himself  also  remained,  but  th( 
guards  were  withdrawn;  and  all  who  came  to  visit  either  o 
the  three  communities  were  admitted  without  difficulty.  Oi 
the  other  hand,  this  boon  was  attended  by  the  very  consider 
able  inconvenience  of  the  withdrawal  of  their  daily  pensioi 
from  government,  whilst  yet  they  could  not  succeed  in  obtain 
ing  their  own  rents.  This  was  the  cause  of  very  seven 
suffering  to  all  the  community,  and  many  of  the  sisters  wer 
much  reduced  in  health  by  it.  They  could  only  allow  them 
selves  four  ounces  of  bread  a  day,  and  other  things  in  proper 
tion  ;  their  chief  article  of  food  was  potatoes,  which  some  lady 
who  had  been  a  prisoner  with  them  in  their  convent,  procurec 
from  the  country  at  a  reasonable  price.  But  provisions  wer 
so  scarce  and  dear  at  this  time,  that  the  nuns  could  see  fron 
their  windows  poor  peo})le  come  to  the  very  dunghills  in  tbi 
streets,  and  greedily  eat  of  the  refuse  of  vegetables  that  wa 
thrown  there;  and  many  even  died  from  want.  Under  thes 
critical  circumstances,  the  Mother  Prioress,  after  long  an< 
anxious  thought  and  much  prayer  to  God,  proposed  to  ther 


I 


during  the  French  Revolution.  533 

whether  they  should  attempt  to  get  to  England.     All  agreed 
it  would  be  the  best  thing,  if  it  could  be  done;  but  none  could 
give  any  idea  how  it  was  to  be  accomplished ;  nor  were  they 
at  all  aware  that  any  religious  community  had  yet  ventured  to 
take  a  similar  step.     In  an  affair  of  so  much  importance  the 
votes  of  the  community  were  taken;  and  all  hut  one  were  for 
going  to  England.     They  next  consulted   the  Grand  Vicar, 
who  was  acting  in  the  place  of  the  Archbishop ;  and  he  gave  his 
advice  briefly,  but  very  decidedly,  to  the  same  effect.     It  now 
only  remained  to  cast  about  for  the  means  of  really  fulfilling  the 
resolution  they  had  come  to;  and  the  only  means  which  seemed 
at  all  within  their  reach  was  the  sale  of  their  furniture.    They 
had  no  money  of  their  own  ;  their  numerous  petitions  for  aid 
to  the  government  had  received  no  answer;  they  had  nothing 
but  their  furniture  to  dispose  of;  and  they  were  very  doubtful 
whether  they  would  be  allowed  to  dispose  of  this.     However, 
Mother  Prioress  ventured   to   speak   on    the    subject   to   the 
keeper,  who  replied  that  he  was  only  responsible  for  the  safe 
custody  of  the  goods  of  the  Augustinian  ladies,  to  whom  the 
house  belonged ;  that  he  had  never  received  any  charge  con- 
cerning the  goods  of  the  communities  that  had  been  sent  here 
for  confinement,  and  that  he  should  make  no  difficulty,  there- 
fore, to  her  selling  any  thing  she  pleased.     This  was  a  great 
step  gained ;  and  they  thought  at  first  of  disposing  of  every 
thing  at  once  by  a  public  auction.     On  second  thoughts,  how- 
ever, this  was  abandoned,  as  manifestly  imprudent  and  likely 
to  attract  attention;  and  they  determined  to  do  nothing  in  the 
sale  till  they  had  secured  their  passports.     This  was  a  work  of 
time,  some  new  insurrection  which  broke  out  causing  a  delay 
of  some  weeks.     At  length  the  passports  were  obtained,  each 
nun  going  before  the  revolutionary  committee  of  the  section, 
in  order  that  her  form,  features,  &c.   might  be  accurately  de- 
scribed on  the  precious  document;  three  or  four,  who  were 
too  sick  to  go  out,  were  visited  in  their  own  rooms  for  the  same 
purpose.    The  passports  being  now  safe,  their  next  step  was  to 
secure  places  in  the  public  conveyances  to  Calais,   of  which 
there  were  at  that  time  only  two  in  the  week,  carrying  eight 
passengers.     They  therefore  engaged  the   whole  of  the  coach 
for  Friday  the  19th  of  June,  and  for  Tuesday  the  22d ;  and 
during  the  three  weeks'  interval  that  remained  before  these 
days  would  come,  they  sold  all  their  property  in  small  lots  to 
different  people ;  and  managed  to  get  them  all  out  of  the  house, 
and  safely  delivered  to  their  respective  purchasers,  before  the 
last  division  of  the  community  left  Paris.     These  sales  realised 
a  sum  of  about  1500  livres ;  and  the  very  day  before  the  last 
party  started  on  their  journey,  they  received  a  further  sum  oj 


534  Svfferings  of  English  Nuns 

SOOO  livres  from  the  government;  the  first  grant  wliich  they 
had  ever  obtained  in  answer  to  their  numerous  petitions,  and 
which,  by  God's  good  providence,  now  arrived  most  opportunely 
to  assist  them  in  their  journey. 

It  is  amusing,  at  this  distance  of  time,  and  with  Brad- 
shaw's  "  Railway  Time-tables"  by  our  side,  to  look  back  on 
the  records  of  a  journey  from  Paris  to  Calais  in  1794.  It 
appears  that  the  detachment  of  nuns  who  started  on  Friday 
reached  Calais  on  the  following  Wednesday ;  and  the  second 
detachment  were  still  longer  on  the  road.  They  left  Paris 
immediately  after  dinner  on  Tuesday,  and  arrived  at  the  hotel 
in  Calais  just  in  time  for  dinner  on  the  following  Monday  I 
In  a  little  village,  two  leagues  on  the  Paris  side  of  Abbeville, 
they  were  obliged  to  sit  all  night  in  the  coaches,  stationary  in 
the  high  road,  for  lack  of  horses.  At  Amiens  they  were  obliged 
to  procure  farmers'  horses,  ploughboys  leading  them  just  as 
they  would  have  driven  a  loaded  wagon.  At  Montreuille  they 
were  again  detained  from  the  same  cause,  and  again  at 
Boulogne  for  a  day  and  a  night.  However,  at  length  the 
whole  community  found  themselves  reassembled  in  an  inn  at 
Calais;  but  the  wind  was  "so  high  and  contrary"  that  they 
could  not  attempt  to  sail.  And  here  a  little  encounter  which 
they  had  with  "  the  world"  in  its  own  proper  and  ordinary 
form,  is  too  simply  yet  graphically  narrated  in  their  own 
words  to  allow  of  our  shortening  it.  "  We  were  tormented,'* 
they  say,  *'  with  the  solicitation  of  one  captain,  and  the  friends 
of  another  (who  was  absent),  to  engage  to  go  in  their  vessel. 
The  friends  of  the  absent  one  did  not  fail  to  use  every  argu- 
ment in  his  favour  and  to  discredit  the  other,  which  was  very 
disagreeable.  The  innkeeper  was  interested  for  the  absent 
one ;  the  other  came  himself,  and  also  got  friends  to  speak  for 
him.  Mother  Prioress,  to  be  rid  of  these  harassing  impor- 
tunities, was  resolved  to  agree  with  one ;  which  she  did  with 
the  one  present,  for  two  reasons :  first,  because  he  said  the 
least  ill  of  the  other,  though  the  parties  were  both  very  warm, 
and  it  was  difficult  to  decide  which  was  best  to  choose;  2dly, 
because  he  was  much  recommended  to  us  by  two  commu- 
nities who  came  to  see  us,  one  Dominicanesses,  the  other 
Benedictines.  This  man  was  a  Danish  captain ;  and  he  agreed 
to  take  us  for  2400  livres^  which  was  at  the  rate  of  about 
two  guineas  a  head.  The  waiter  was  much  displeased  at  this 
agreement,  and  did  not  cease  from  endeavouring  to  ruin  the 
captain.  The  niglit  before  we  expected  to  sail,  the  vessel 
lying  at  anchor  and  all  our  luggage  on  board,  the  cable  which 
fastened  it  to  land  was  cut;  and  when  the  tide  came  in,  the 
vessel  turned  aside,  and  was  almost  filled  with  water.     This 


I 


during  the  French  Revolution,  535 

was  the  first  news  told  us  in  the  morning;  and  that  she  was 
totally  disabled  from  sailing,  and  that  our  luggage  must  be  put 
into  another  vessel.  This  was  the  last  effort  of  this  battle  of 
envy  and  jealousy,  which  appeared  to  ns  as  horrible  as  a 
domiciliary  visit ;  and  it  is  true  we  never  in  our  lives  saw  any 
thing  so  uncharitable ! "  An  English  lady  who  was  of  their 
party,  but  not  a  nun,  went  to  the  spot  to  see  for  herself,  and 
prevented  the  goods  from  being  removed;  and  the  captain 
brought  a  carpenter,  who  certified  that  he  had  visited  and 
repaired  the  ship,  and  that  she  was  in  a  state  to  sail  with 
safety.  They  therefore  wisely  determined  to  keep  to  their 
agreement;  and  on  the  evening  of  Thursday  the  2d  of  July 
they  went  on  board,  "  the  enemies  of  the  captain"  standing  by 
all  the  while,  and  charitably  "wishing  them  all  at  the  bottom.'* 
There  proved  to  be  but  poor  accommodation  in  the  ship;  only 
beds  for  five  or  six ;  but  '*  the  captain  made  up  for  it  by  his 
great  attention  and  good  nature;"  and  after  a  tedious  sail  of 
twenty  hours  they  were  safely  landed  at  Dover,  very  hungry 
and  weary,  and  with  one  French  guinea  in  their  pockets,  which 
they  exchanged  for  eighteen  shillings.  "  A  very  great  crowd 
waited  their  arrival  on  shore;  many  gave  them  a  hearty 
welcome  and  congratulation."  The  officers  at  the  custom- 
house gave  but  a  slight  look  into  their  parcels;  and  they  soon 
found  themselves  in  an  inn,  "provided  with  a  good  fish-dinner, 
and  such  excellent  bread,  we  could  hardly  believe  either  our 
eyes  or  our  taste."  The  next  day  they  were  furnished  with 
three  coaches  to  take  them  to  London,  for  the  sum  of  331. ; 
a  sum  which  they  were  enabled  to  pay  through  the  kind- 
ness of  half  a  dozen  friends,  who  had  subscribed  together  to 
supply  their  immediate  necessities.  They  left  Dover  early  on 
Saturday  morning,  and  travelled  all  night,  in  order  that  they 
might  be  able  to  hear  Mass  on  Sunday,  which  they  had  not 
done  since  they  left  Paris.  On  arriving  in  London  at  six 
o'clock,  and  *'  having  much  to  do  to  get  a  servant  up  at  the 
inn,"  they  procured  a  messenger  as  soon  as  they  could  to  go 
and  announce  their  arrival  to  a  friend,  at  whose  house  they 
presently  breakfasted;  and  after  breakfast  "  we  heard  Mass,  as 
well  as  we  were  able;  but,  alas!  very  sleepy  prayers."  Never- 
theless, five  days  afterwards  we  find  them  in  a  little  house  in 
Orchard  Street,  rising  to  Matins  at  their  usual  hour  of  four  in 
the  morning,  keeping  choir,  and  fulfilling  all  their  community 
duties  as  though  they  had  never  been  disturbed.  The  Right 
Kev.  Dr.  Douglas  had  visited  them  on  the  very  day  after  their 
arrival;  had  welcomed  them  with  the  most  fatherly  kindness, 
and  given  them  leave  to  have  Mass  in  their  house,  and  to 
reserve  the  Blessed  Sacrament  there,  provided  they  could  set 


536  The  Czar  and  his  Subjects, 

apart  a  room  that  should  be  used  solely  for  this  purpose.  "  We 
made  a  very  neat  altar  upon  a  chest  of  drawers,"  says  the 
chronicle,  of  which  we  must  now  unwillingly  take  our  leave; 
**  and  I  cannot  express  the  happiness  we  all  experienced  in 
having  again  the  Blessed  Sacrament :  a  happiness  of  which  we 
had  been  deprived  from  the  24th  of  November,  1793,  till  the 
9ihor  10th  of  July,  1795." 


THE  CZAR  AND  HIS  SUBJECTS. 

1.  The  Russian  Shores  of  the  Black  Sea  in  the  Autumn  of 
1852;  with  a  Voyage  down  the  Volga,  and  a  Tour  through 
the  Country  of  the  Don  Cossacks.  By  Lawrence  Oliphant. 
Blackwood. 

2.  The  last  Days  of  Alexarider  and  the  first  Days  of  Nicho- 
las, Emperor  of  Russia.  By  Robert  Lee,  M.D.,  F.R.S. 
Bentley. 

3.  Russia  and  the  Russians ;   comprising  an  Account  of  the 

Czar  Nicholas,  and  the  House  of  Romanoff.     By  J.  W. 
Cole,  H.P.  21st  Fusiliers.     Bentley. 

Nicholas  the  Czar  reigns  over  a  territory  comprising  one-sixth 
of  the  habitable  globe.  Within  the  last  sixty  years  Russia 
has  appropriated  provinces  on  the  Black  Sea  alone,  as  large 
as  all  that  now  remains  of  European  Turkey.  With  Russia, 
or  rather  with  the  Czar,  we  are  now  at  war.  A  portentous 
fact  for  the  trade-loving,  crystal-palace-building,  peace-nur- 
tured England  of  the  year  1854.  And  a  fact  all  the  more 
portentous  from  the  circumstance  that  it  is  with  the  Czar, 
more  than  with  Russia,  that  we  are  at  war.  That  sixth  part 
of  the  globe  which  is  now  armed  against  us  is  under  the 
dominion  of  one  man.  What  would  the  Russians  be  without 
their  emperor  ?  An  enormous  horde  ;  half-civilised  or  wholly 
barbarous ;  speaking  different  tongues,  professing  different 
creeds,  inhabiting  different  climates,  without  a  single  bond 
in  common  ;  in  fact,  a  gigantic,  scattered,  unorganised,  and 
heterogeneous  multitude.  What  were  European  and  Asiatic 
Russia  to  boot  against  compact  England  and  dijciplined 
France  ?  Without  its  despotic  monarch,  ruling  their  pockets, 
actions,  and  lives,  at  his  own  discretion,  the  struggle  could 


The  Czar  and  his  Subjects,  537 

not  last  a  year.  But  with  a  head,  and  with  such  a  head, 
animated  by  such  a  poHcy,  worshipped  by  the  millions,  though 
hated  by  the  units  of  his  people,  Russia  is  a  foe  whose  power 
may  well  make  the  most  daring  pause  before  they  calculate 
on  the  chances  of  one  single  campaign. 

After  all,  however,  despotic  monarchs  are  not  omnipotent. 
There  are  limits  even  to  the  power  of  a  czar  over  the  wills 
of  his  subjects.  There  is  a  point  at  which  his  will  must  yield 
to  theirs.  And,  far  short  of  that  point,  there  is  a  period  at 
which  their  contributions  to  his  treasury  must  cease,  for  the 
simple  reason  that  they  have  nothing  more  to  supply. 

What,  then,  are  the  real  resources  of  this  most  formidable 
foe  ?  Is  he  an  invincible  giant,  or  a  monstrous  bugbear  ?  Is 
his  wealth  as  complete  a  sham  as  his  "honour  ?"  Has  he  the 
raw  material  in  his  territory  and  his  people,  from  which  his 
arbitrary  will  can  create  army  after  army,  with  clothing,  arms, 
and  food,  to  supply  the  exigencies  of  a  prolonged  struggle 
against  the  Western  Powers  ? 

The  booksellers  are  quite  ready  to  answer  these  and  all 
such  questions.  If  we  don't  know  every  thing  about  Nicholas 
and  his  means,  it  is  not  the  fault  of  authors  and  publishers. 
Every  body  who  has  stored  in  his  memory  or  his  diary  any 
thing  to  tell,  seems  rushing  with  his  MS.  to  Paternoster  Row, 
New  Burlington  Street,  or  Farringdon  Street;  and  we  have 
little  doubt  that  books  which  in  ordinary  times  would  not  sell 
off  a  small  edition  of  a  few  hundred  copies,  are  now  printed 
by  the  thousand,  and  carried  off  rapidly  by  eager  purchasers. 

The  great  difficulty  is,  to  know  how  much  of  all  this  in- 
formation is  true ;  or  if  it  really  is  true,  how  far  it  is,  or  fairly 
represents,  the  whole  truth.  Unfortunately,  few  travellers  can 
speak  Russ ;  while  there  is  not  a  country  in  the  world  where 
travellers  are  so  completely  at  the  mercy  of  a  jealous  govern- 
ment, as  to  what  they  shall  see  and  what  they  shall  not  see. 
Russia,  undeniably,  is  a  horrible  country  for  travelling  in. 
Climate,  roads,  inns,  conveyances,  are  alike  detestable,  with 
few  exceptions ;  and  over  all  and  through  all  reigns  a  system 
of  police  and  passport,  devised  by  suspicious  despotism  and 
conducted  by  corrupt  officials,  which  produces  an  amount  of 
annoyance  to  strangers  comparable  only  to  the  sufferings  in- 
flicted by  the  multifarious  varieties  of  vermin  which  swarm 
through  the  length  and  breadth  of  that  happy  land. 

Insects  and  police,  indeed,  seem  nationalised  throughout 
the  empire.  Who  would  expect  to  be  bitten  to  death  by 
mosquitoes  iri  Siberia?  Yet  a  certain  Polish  lady,  who  was 
banished  to  that  region  of  frost,  and  who  lately  wrote  a  book 
on  her  return  from  exile,  informs  us   that  at  Berezov,  the 


53S  The  Czar  and  his  Subjects, 

place  of  her  detention,  the  brief  summer  which  suddenly  shot 
out  from  the  rigours  of  a  frightful  winter,  brought  myriads 
of  those  torturing  insects,  and  drove  her  ahnost  to  distraction. 
The  temperature  within  a  day  or  two  changed  from  that  of 
the  North  Pole  almost  to  that  of  the  Equator.  What  a  cli- 
mate ! — under  w'hich  in  summer-time  the  only  way  to  preserve 
meat  is  to  dig  a  few  feet  down  into  the  earth,  in  order  to 
arrive  at  the  still-frozen  soil,  surrounded  by  which  the  liesh 
of  animals  can  alone  be  saved  from  rapid  destruction  !  Lite- 
rally, in  a  Siberian  house,  the  temperature  in  the  rooms  may 
be  at  120°  Fahrenheit,  and  the  cellars  at  many  degrees  below 
zero. 

Of  the  different  publications  which  the  war  has  called 
forth,  one  of  the  best  is  undoubtedly  Mr.  Oliphant's  Russian 
Shores  of  the  Black  Sea,  which  we  briefly  noticed  in  a  recent 
number.  Mr.  Oliphant  travelled  through  those  interesting 
regions  no  later  than  in  the  autumn  of  1852;  and  he  seems 
to  be  an  acute,  observant,  well-informed,  and  energetic  man. 
The  chief  drawback  in  his  book  is  his  vehement  dislike  of 
Russia,  and  his  prejudice  in  favour  of  Mahometanism  in  pre- 
ference to  the  Greek  religion.  Allowing,  however,  for  any 
warping  of  his  judgment  from  these  causes,  his  observations 
and  conclusions  go  strongly  to  prove  that  in  her  present  state 
Russia  could  not  hold  out  long  against  France  and  England. 
The  Czar  seems  to  have  at  his  command  neither  the  power 
of  the  old  barbarian  races,  nor  that  of  the  modern  civilised 
European  kingdom.  The  ivhole  system  of  Russia  is  artificial. 
It  is  not  the  natural  condition  of  nations  in  that  degree  of 
civilisation  to  which  it  has  yet  attained.  And  being  thus 
unnatural,  its  tendency  is  to  decay  rather  than  to  vigorous 
growth ;  while  it  possesses  neither  the  lasting  resources  by 
which  modern  warfare  is  carried  on,  nor  the  impetuous  enthu- 
siasm, or  momentum,  by  which  victorious  multitudes  in  former 
times  have  swarmed  to  conquest. 

Russia  is  ruled  by  one  gigantic  and  complicated  system  of 
despotism,  of  the  most  mean  and  degrading  kind ;  and  in  this 
respect  presents  an  entire  contrast  to  the  condition  of  the 
European  and  Asiatic  hordes  who  have  swept  over  the  earth 
at  different  epochs.  Despotic  as  was  nominally  the  govern- 
ment of  these  various  races,  it  was  a  despotism  based  on  the 
free  will  of  an  enormous  population,  upheld  by  them  for  their 
own  purposes,  and  controlled  by  venerable  and  venerated 
traditions.  Unity  of  idea  has  ever  been  the  animating  prin- 
ciple of  a  mighty  people,  barbarous  or  cultivated.  Wild,  in- 
volved in  incessant  quarrels  among  themselves,  incapable  of 
what  we   call  "  self-government ;"    still  there   has  ever  been 


The  Czar  and  his  Subjects.  539 

some  species  of  unanimity,  which  has  roused  them  to  spon- 
taneous exertion  and  sacrifice,  in  circumstances  which  strongly 
appealed  to  their  passions. 

To  all  this  there  is  no  parallel  in  modern  Russia.  It  is 
a  congeries  of  subjugated  provinces,  held  in  subjection  by 
craft  and  all  the  devices  of  modern  bureaucracy.  The  vene- 
ration entertained  by  a  portion  of  the  masses  for  the  sovereign 
is  the  result  of  trick.  Neither  he,  nor  his  family,  nor  his 
aristocracy,  have  the  faintest  natural  kindred  to  the  governed 
multitude.  The  masters  are  of  one  kind,  and  the  servants  of 
another.  Unity  of  interest  there  is  not ;  unity  of  occupations 
and  ideas  there  is  not ;  and  therefore  there  can  only  be  unity 
of  action  in  the  way  of  conquest  so  long  as  the  millions  who 
supply  the  soldiery  can  be  forced  to  give  themselves  to  the 
slaughter. 

As  to  the  money-resources  of  Russia,  they  cannot  last; 
because  Russia  is  not  a  producing  country,  except  so  far  as 
compulsory  labour  can  produce.  Already  its  most  magnificent 
provinces,  naturally  fertile  in  the  highest  degree,  are  not  half 
cultivated ;  nor  can  they  be  cultivated  while  serfdom  destroys 
every  natural  energy  in  the  peasantry.  In  war,  moreover, 
these  peasantry,  already  far  too  few,  are  annually  diminished 
to  supply  the  demands  of  army  and  navy ;  while  the  wealth 
of  the  country  is  taxed  beyond  its  ordinary  wont.  Every  serf 
turned  into  a  soldier  is,  therefore,  equivalent  to  precisely  the 
loss  of  so  much  corn,  flax,  or  wine,  that  his  labour  has  pro- 
duced. Trade  and  manufactures,  comparatively  speaking, 
Russia  has  little :  while  what  she  has  are,  to  a  considerable 
extent,  paralysed  by  a  war  with  powers  who  command  the 
seas.  Add  to  this  the  peculiar  feelings  which  for  generations 
have  been  entertained  by  the  Russian  nobles  to  their  czars ; 
and  we  see  at  once  the  impossibility  of  any  permanent  aggres- 
sion on  the  Western  Powers.  The  wealth  of  the  empire  is  in 
the  hands  either  of  the  sovereign  or  the  nobles.  What  those 
nobles  think  of  that  sovereign  may  be  judged  by  the  history 
of  the  lives,  or  rather  deaths,  of  all  the  male  sovereigns  of 
Russia  since  Peter  the  Great,  with  the  exception  of  the  late 
Emperor  Alexander.  Alexis,  the  son  and  heir  of  Peter,  was 
executed  by  his  father.  Peter  II.,  the  son  of  Alexis,  was  de- 
posed and  murdered.  Ivan  Antonovitch,  the  next  male  sove- 
reign, was  deposed  by  his  cousin  Elizabeth,  confined  by  her 
in  various  prisons,  and  made  away  with  by  Catherine  11. 
This  same  Catherine  murdered  her  husband,  Peter  III.  Her 
son  Paul  was  murdered  by  his  nobles.  Is  it  possible  that 
such  a  monarch,  such  nobles,  and  such  a  people,  can  carry  on 
a  war  of  aggression  ?     A  nation  of  slaves  never  yet  conquered 


540  The  Czar  and  his  Subjects, 

a  powerful  enemy  by  crushing  it  with  overwhehning  numbers. 
Hitherto  Russia  has  conquered  none  but  nations  in  a  state 
of  disorganisation  and  decay. 

If  Mr.  Oliphant  is  to  be  credited,  that  very  section  of  the 
Russian  population  which  is  viewed  with  the  most  alarm  is 
especially  disaffected  to  the  dominion  of  the  Czar,  and  is  in 
itself  as  little  formidable  a  foe  as  need  be.  The  Don  Cossacks 
are  supposed  to  be  the  future  Goths,  Huns,  and  Vandals,  who 
are  to  burn  Paris  and  eat  up  London.  The  word  "  Cossack" 
itself  furnishes  one  of  the  most  obscure  of  etymological  puz- 
zles. Some  say  it  signifies  "  an  armed  man,"  others  "  a 
sabre,"  others  "  a  goat,"  others  **'  a  rover,"  others  "  a  pro- 
montory," others  "  a  coat,"  others  "  a  cassock,"  others  "  a  dis- 
trict in  Circassia."  The  country  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the 
Don,  which  they  inhabit,  possesses  a  superb  soil ;  and  Mr. 
Oliphant  thinks  the  Cossacks,  though  the  bravest  of  the  Rus- 
sian army,  vastly  more  inclined  to  agriculture  and  peaceful 
enterprise  than  to  bloodshedding  and  conquest. 

Nevertheless,  these  Cossacks,  though  one-seventh  of  their 
entire  numbers  are  always  away  from  home,  employed  as 
targets  for  Circassian  riflemen,  or  on  some  similar  military 
7ion-producirig  business,  contrive  to  cultivate  thirty-three  per 
cent  more  land  than  the  average  of  the  rest  of  the  Russian 
population. 

It  appears  to  us  obvious  that  a  nation  composed  of  distinct 
races,  thus  subjected  to  the  influence  of  one  uniform  system  of 
repression  and  tyranny,  so  far  from  advancing  in  real  power, 
must  infallibly  be  hastening  to  disorganisation.  A  national 
existence  which  only  endures  through  the  incessant  interfer- 
ence of  government  officials,  heartless,  needy,  and  corrupt  in 
all  the  relations  of  life,  can  only  tend  to  the  production  of  one 
level  state  of  degradation.  Russian  political  economy  seems, 
in  fact,  founded  upon  an  infatuation  perfectly  suicidal.  Com- 
merce and  production  are  rendered  practically  impossible  to 
any  large  extent ;  and  even  where  they  do  exist,  it  is  chiefly 
through  the  decrees  of  that  same  despotism  which  will  scarcely 
allow  a  man  to  eat  and  breathe  as  nature  would  have  him. 
Immense  sums  are  in  many  cases  demanded  for  permission  to 
trade ;  the  heaviest  burdens  of  this  kind  being  reserved  for 
native  Russians.  Even  the  multiplication  of  labour,  that 
great  want  of  the  nation,  is  practically  prohibited  in  a  natural 
way: 

"  The  thousands  half  starving  in  many  parts  of  the  country,  who 
are  not  altogether  bound  down  as  serfs  to  a  particular  locality,  are 
unable  to  migrate  to  tliis  land  of  plenty,  on  account  of  the  system 
which  obliges  them  to  invest  their  all  in  a  passport  to  bring  them 


The  Czar  and  his  Subjects,  541 

here,  and  when  they  have  made  a  little  money,  to  spend  their 
savings  in  bribes  to  government  officials  for  more  passports  to  take 
them  back  again  to  their  own  district,  from  which  they  may  not  be 
absent  above  a  limited  time  ;  while  the  journey  there  and  back 
would  most  probably  occupy  a  considerable  period,  if  it  were  not 
altogether  impracticable  for  persons  in  their  condition." 

Sometimes,  as  in  the  case  of  the  vodka,  or  corn-brandy, 
the  government  monopolises  the  sale ;  and,  by  way  of  in- 
creasing the  revenues  thereby  provided,  extends  an  especial 
patronage  to  drunkenness.  Mr.  Oliphant  was  informed  by  a 
Russian  gentleman  that  the  police  have  strict  orders  not  to 
take  up  any  person  found  drunk  in  tRe  streets.  The  number 
of  tipsy  men  whom  he  saw  reeling  about  the  large  towns 
seemed  to  confirm  the  accuracy  of  the  statement.  At  the 
same  time  a  determined  war  is  waged  against  tobacco,  the 
very  lighting  of  a  cigar  insuring  a  demand  for  three  rubles 
from  the  first  policeman  who  can  pounce  on  the  unwary 
smoker.  During  his  voyage  down  the  Volga,  Mr.  Oliphant 
encountered  a  splendid  specimen  of  the  wealthy  Russian 
drunkard : 

"The  consignee  of  the  flock  we  were  then  contemplating  was 
said  to  be  the  richest  merchant  on  the  river  —  the  countless  millions 
of  rubles  which  he  was  reputed  to  possess  throwing  Rothschild  far 
into  the  shade.  We  were  rather  astonished  when  a  heavy-looking 
man,  clad  in  a  shirt  and  loose  drawers,  who  came  reeling  on  board 
in  a  state  of  extreme  intoxication,  proved  to  be  the  millionaire  in 
question ;  and  it  was  highly  disgusting  to  find  that  he,  and  a  friend 
in  no  better  condition,  were  to  occupy  the  cabin  adjoining  ours. 
Every  body  paid  great  deference  to  this  personage, — chiefly,  as  it 
appeared,  because  he  was  a  noble,  though  of  the  lowest  grade,  and 
could  afford  to  get  drunk  on  English  bottled  stout  at  five  shillings 
a  bottle.  Porter  certainly  seemed  a  very  odd  thing  for  a  man  at 
Saratov  to  select  as  a  beverage  for  this  purpose  ;  but  the  secret  of 
the  choice  was,  that  it  required  an  expenditure  of  about  two  pounds 
daily  to  enable  him  to  effect  the  desired  end — a  circumstance  that 
raised  him  immensely  in  the  estimation  of  his  fellows.  How  the 
pilots  envied  him  !  A  few  miserable  copeks,  spent  with  a  similar 
design,  subjected  them  to  the  harshest  treatment.  Not  so,  however, 
the  more  fortunate  passengers  in  the  barge.  Profiting  by  the  ex- 
ample of  the  wealthy  nobleman,  rich  with  the  spoils  at  Nijni,  and 
responsible  to  no  one,  they  one  and  all  indulged  most  copiously ; 
and  the  scenes  of  drunkenness  and  immorality  which  went  on  at 
every  station  would  not  bear  description  ;  if,  indeed,  w^ords  could 
convey  any  adequate  notion  of  them." 

The  matrimonial  arrangements  of  the  captain  of  the  vessel 
furnished  another  illustration  of  popular  virtue  : 

*'  Whatever  may  be  the   morals   of  the   peasantry  in    remote 


542  The  Czar  and  his  Subjects, 

districts,  those  living  in  the  towns  and  villages  on  the  Volga  are 
more  degraded  in  tlieir  habits  than  any  other  people  amongst  whom 
I  have  travelled ;  and  they  can  hardly  be  said  to  disregard,  since 
they  have  never  been  acquainted  with,  the  ordinary  decencies  of 
life.  What  better  result  can  indeed  be  expected  from  a  system  by 
which  the  upper  classes  are  wealthy  in  proportion  to  the  number 
of  serfs  possessed  by  each  proprietor  ?  The  rapid  increase  of  the 
population  is  no  less  an  object  with  the  private  serf-owner,  than  the 
extensive  consumption  of  ardent  spirits  is  desired  by  tlie  govern- 
ment. Thus  each  vice  is  privileged  with  especial  patronage.  Mar- 
riages, in  the  Russian  sense  of  the  term,  are  consummated  at  an 
early  age,  and  .are  arranged  by  the  steward,  without  consulting  the 
parties  —  the  lord's  approval  alone  being  necessary.  The  price  of 
a  family  ranges  from  25/.  to  40/.  Our  captain  had  taken  his  wife 
on  a  lease  of  five  years,  the  rent  for  that  term  amounting  to  fifty 
rubles,  witli  the  privilege  of  renewal  at  the  expiration  of  it." 

In  every  thing,  the  one  grand  object  of  the  Russian  go- 
vernment appears  to  be  the  keeping  the  people  in  subjection. 
The  idea  that  government,  as  such,  exists  for  the  benefit  of 
the  governed,  of  course  never  occurs  to  the  brain  of  a  Russian 
ruler  in  his  wildest  dreams.  But  he  is  equally  ignorant  of  the 
less  noble,  but  yet  practically  useful  theory,  that  a  govern- 
ment, for  mere  selfish  considerations,  should  use  its  power  for 
the  purpose  of  developing  the  natural  powers  of  the  people  it 
rules.  When  the  old  Romans  subdued  a  people,  they  adopted 
for  themselves  whatever  they  found  worth  imitation,  while 
they  imported  into  their  new  acquisitions  their  own  arts  and 
cultivation.  The  Czar,  on  the  contrary,  has  no  gifts  for  a 
conquered  province  but  policemen,  passports,  taxes,  and 
soldiers.  Right  across  the  country  of  the  Don  Cossacks  is 
established  a  long  line  of  posting-houses ;  but  it  is  all  for  the 
furtherance  of  military  despatches.  The  Black  Sea  is  made 
to  swarm  with  war-steamers  instead  of  merchant-vessels.  A 
railway  runs  from  north  to  south;  but  its  chief  object  is  the 
conveyance  of  troops.  We  take  it,  however,  that  there  is 
no  more  pregnant  proof  of  the  inherent  rottenness  of  Russia 
as  a  nation  than  the  corruption  of  the  official  employes  of 
every  grade.  The  worst  jobbing  in  our  own  country  is  im- 
maculate virtue  in  contrast  with  the  systematic  rascality  of 
the  servants  of  Nicholas.  If  you  want  to  start  in  a  steam- 
navigation  company's  boat  on  the  Volga,  you  may  have  to 
wait  a  week  beyond  the  appointed  day,  until  the  clerks  of  the 
police  consider  themselves  sufficiently  bribed  to  fill  up  the 
necessary  papers.  The  history  of  this  same  steam-company 
supplied  a  pretty  sample  of  the  national  honour. 

"  PCihaps  the  most  serious  impediment  to  the  successful  pro- 


The  Czar  and  his  Subjects.  543 

secution  of  commercial  enterprise  in  Russia,  is  the  impossibility  of 
finding  employes  upon  whose  honesty  any  reliance  can  be  placed. 
All  Russians  are  so  much  in  the  habit  of  cheating  their  government, 
that  they  are  unable  to  divest  themselves  of  this  propensity  where 
the  pockets  of  private  individuals  are  concerned.  Nor  do  rank  or 
station  offer  any  guarantee,  since  greater  responsibilities  only  afford 
greater  facilities  for  successful  peculation.  The  experiences  of  the 
Volga  Steam  Company  amusingly  illustrate  the  truth  of  this.  It 
was  found  that  while  the  affairs  of  tiie  company  were  managed  by 
some  Russian  gentlemen  resident  at  Nijni,  there  was  a  heavy  annual 
loss  ;  and,  notwithstanding  the  certain  prospect  of  remuneration 
which  the  speculation  had  originally  held  out,  it  became  apparent 
that,  unless  an  entire  change  took  place  in  the  circumstances  of  the 
Volga  Steam  Company,  that  respectable  association  would  soon  be 
inevitably  bankrupt.  Some  Englishmen  were  consequently  deputed 
to  inquire  into  a  state  of  matters  so  extremely  unsatisfactory.  They 
at  once  discovered  that  a  system  of  wholesale  robbery  had  been 
practised  by  the  agents,  to  such  an  extent,  that  the  deficiencies  were 
easily  accounted  for.  Among  other  ingenious  contrivances  resorted 
to  for  appropriating  the  company's  funds,  the  most  highly  approved 
was  that  of  sharing  the  demurrage  obtained  by  the  owners  of  cargo 
upon  those  barges  which  were  detained  beyond  a  certain  time  upon 
their  voyage.  It  was  easily  arranged  between  the  merchants,  the 
captains  of  the  steam-tugs,  and  the  managers  at  Nijni,  that  these 
delays  should  frequently  occur ;  and  as  the  amount  of  demurrage 
was  regulated  by  the  length  of  their  duration,  the  company  was 
mulcted  of  large  sums,  and  these  worthy  associates  divided  the  spoil. 
Since  then  the  affairs  of  the  company  are  managed  by  Englishmen, 
who  are  rapidly  making  up  the  losses  sustained  under  the  Russian 
administration." 

At  Odessa,  really  one  of  the  most  important  towns  in  the 
.  empire,  our  traveller  came  in  for  an  illustration  of  political 
wisdom  which,  we  think,  must  be  unique.  Odessa,  of  course, 
must  have  its  theatricals.  Sic  volOf  sic  jubeo,  says  the  Czar, 
in  amusements,  as  in  commerce  and  religion.  But  manager- 
ship is  a  worse  speculation  at  Odessa  than  even  in  London. 
Muscovite  wisdom,  therefore,  has  decreed  that  the  theatre 
shall  always  be  rented  by  the  individual  who  has  the  contract 
for  supplying  the  quarantine  establishment  with  provisions, 
which  contract  is  a  very  lucrative  affair.  From  this  ingenious 
union  of  plays  and  pestilence,  it  results  that  the  manager- 
contractor  strains  every  nerve  to  prove  that  every  ship-load  of 
passengers  that  comes  to  Odessa  is  infected  with  some  con- 
tagious disease,  which  will  enable  him  to  fill  his  pit,  boxes, 
and  gallery  with  the  unfortunate  persons  condemned  to  an 
enforced  residence  in  the  town.  Mr.  Oliphant  barely  escaped 
being  thus  victimised. 

VOL.  I. NEW  SERIES.  P  P 


544  The  Czar  and  his  Subjects, 

Every  where  the  story  of  official  swindHng  was  the  same. 
At  Taganrog,  the  port  at  the  mouth  of  the  Don,  and  a  place 
of  great  importance,  the  harbour  has  a  natural  tendency  to 
become  shallow  by  the  deposit  of  soil.  Accordingly,  govern- 
ment levies  a  heavy  penalty  on  all  ships  that  throw  their  bal- 
last overboard,  instead  of  landing  it  on  the  shore.  But  what 
of  that  ?  What  do  the  officials  of  the  custom-house  care  for 
the  harbour  in  comparison  with  their  own  pockets  ?  A  captain 
has  only  to  bribe  in  proportion  to  his  ballast,  and  he  may 
shoot  as  many  hundred  tons  of  stones  into  the  sea  as  he 
pleases.  The  consequence,  as  our  author  remarks,  is,  that  in 
exact  proportion  with  the  increase  of  the  trade  of  the  town, 
will  be  the  rapidity  with  which  it  is  made  utterly  unapproach- 
able by  sea  ;  the  approach  by  sea  being  that  which  alone  gives 
the  place  any  importance  at  all.  "^ 

But  all  this  is  little  to  the  doings  in  the  great  Russian 
arsenal,  Sebastopol  itself.  Foreigners  are  rarely  permitted  to 
enter  that  town  of  fortifications,  harbours,  and  magazines. 
Even  this  permission  can  be  granted  by  the  governof*  alone, 
and  has  to  be  renewed  daily  during  the  stranger's  visit.  Mr. 
Oliphant  and  his  friend  therefore  resolved  to  try  to  see  the 
place  without  any  permission  at  all.  They  hired  a  peasant's 
cart,  and  actually  jogged  into  the  naval  sanctum  undetected 
by  the  eyes  of  a  whole  regiment  of  soldiers. 

If  one  half  of  what  Mr.  Oliphant  tells  us  of  Sebastopol  is 
true,  Russia  has  no  stamina,  and  is  a  bugbear.  His  account 
is  so  important  that  we  give  it  nearly  at  length : 

"  As  I  stood  upon  the  handsome  stairs  that  lead  down  to  the 
water's  edge,  I  counted  thirteen  sail  of  the  line  anchored  in  the 
principal  harbour.  The  newest  of  these,  a  noble  three-decker,  was 
lying  within  pistol-shot  of  the  quay.  The  average  breadth  of  this 
inlet  is  one  thousand  yards ;  two  creeks  branch  off  from  it,  inter- 
secting the  town  in  a  southerly  direction,  and  containing  steamers 
and  smaller  craft,  besides  a  long  row  of  hulks  which  have  been 
converted  into  magazines  or  prison-ships. 

"  The  hard  service  which  has  reduced  so  many  of  the  hand- 
somest ships  of  the  Russian  navy  to  this  condition,  consists  in  lying  for 
eight  or  ten  years  upon  the  sleeping  bosom  of  the  harbour.  After 
the  expiration  of  that  period,  their  timbers,  composed  of  fir  or  pine- 
wood  never  properly  seasoned,  become  perfectly  rotten.  This  result 
is  chiefly  owing  to  inherent  decay,  and  in  some  degree  to  the 
ravages  of  a  worm  that  abounds  in  the  muddy  waters  of  the  Tchernoi 
Retcka,  a  stream  which,  traversing  the  valley  of  Inkerman,  falls 
into  the  upper  part  of  the  main  harbour.  It  is  said  that  this  per- 
nicious insect  —  which  is  equally  destructive  in  salt  water  as  in 
fresh — costs  the  Russian  government  many  thousands,  and  is  one 


The  Czar  and  his  Subjects,  545 

of  the  most  serious  obstacles  to  the  formation  of  an  efficient  navy 
on  the  Black  Sea. 

"  It  is  difficult  to  see,  however,  why  this  should  be  the  case,  if 
the  ships  are  copper-bottomed  ;  and  a  more  intimate  acquaintance 
with  the  real  state  of  matters  would  lead  one  to  suspect  that  the 
attacks  of  the  naval  emploijes  are  more  formidable  to  the  coffi^rs  of 
the  government  than  the  attacks  of  this  worm,  which  is  used  as  a 
convenient  scape-goat,  when  the  present  rotten  state  of  the  Black 
Sea  fleet  cannot  otherwise  be  accounted  for.  In  contradiction  to 
this,  we  may  be  referred  to  the  infinitely  more  efficient  condition  of 
the  Baltic  fleet ;  but  that  may  arise  rather  from  their  proximity  to 
head-quarters  than  from  the  absence  of  the  worm  in  the  northern  seas. 

"  The  wages  of  the  seaman  are  so  low — about  sixteen  rubles 
a  year  —  that  it  is  not  unnatural  they  should  desire  to  increase  so 
miserable  a  pittance  by  any  means  in  their  power.  The  consequence 
is,  that  from  the  members  of  the  naval  board  to  the  boys  that  blow 
the  smiths'  bellows  in  the  dockyard,  every  body  shares  the  spoils 
obtained  by  an  elaborately  devised  system  of  plunder  carried  on 
somewhat  in  this  way: — A  certain  quantity  of  well-seasoned  oak 
being  required,  government  issues  tenders  for  the  supply  of  the 
requisite  amount.  A  number  of  contractors  submit  their  tenders 
to  a  board  appointed  for  the  purpose  of  receiving  them,  who  are 
regulated  in  their  choice  of  a  contractor,  not  by  the  amount  of  his 
tender,  but  of  his  bribe.  The  fortunate  individual  selected  im- 
mediately sub-contracts  upon  a  somewhat  similar  principle.  Ar- 
ranging to  be  supplied  with  the  timber  for  half  the  amount  of  his 
tender,  the  sub-contractor  carries  on  the  game,  and  perhaps  the 
eighth  link  in  this  contracting  chain  is  the  man  who,  for  an  absurdly 
low  figure,  undertakes  to  produce  the  seasoned  wood. 

"  His  agents  in  the  central  provinces,  accordingly,  float  a  quantity 
of  green  pines  and  firs  down  the  Dnieper  and  Bog  to  Nicholaeff, 
which  are  duly  handed  up  to  the  head  contractor,  each  man  pocket- 
ing the  difference  between  his  contract  and  that  of  his  neighbour. 
When  the  wood  is  produced  before  the  board  appointed  to  inspect 
it,  another  bribe  seasons  it ;  and  the  government,  after  paying  the 
price  of  well-seasoned  oak,  is  surprised  that  the  120  gun-ship,  of 
which  it  has  been  built,  is  unfit  for  service  in  five  years. 

"  The  rich  harvest  that  is  reaped  by  those  employed  in  building 
and  fitting  her  up  is  as  easily  obtained ;  and  to  such  an  extent  did 
the  dockyard  workmen  trade  in  government  stores,  &c.,  that  mer- 
chant vessels  were  for  a  long  time  prohibited  from  entering  the 
harbour.  I  was  not  surprised,  after  obtaining  this  interesting  de- 
scription of  Russian  ingenuity,  to  learn  that,  out  of  the  imposing 
array  before  us,  there  were  only  two  ships  in  a  condition  to  under- 
take the  voyage  round  the  Cape. 

*'  Nothing  can  be  more  formidable  than  the  appearance  of 
Sevastopol  from  the  seaward.  Upon  a  future  occasion  we  visited 
it  in  a  steamer,  and  found  that  at  one  point  we  were  commanded  by 
twelve  hundred  pieces  of  artillery :   fortunately  for  a  hostile  fleet, 


546  The  Czar  and  Ids  Subjects, 

we  afterwards  heard  that  these  could  not  be  discharged  without 
bringing  down  the  rotten  batteries  upon  which  they  are  placed,  and 
which  are  so  badly  constructed  that  they  look  as  if  they  had  been 
done  by  contract.  Four  of  the  forts  consist  of  three  tiers  of 
batteries.  We  were,  of  course,  unable  to  do  more  than  take  a 
very  general  survey  of  these  celebrated  fortifications,  and  there- 
fore cannot  vouch  for  the  truth  of  the  assertion,  that  the  rooms 
in  which  the  guns  are  worked  are  so  narrow  and  ill-ventilated,  that 
the  artillerymen  would  be  inevitably  stifled  in  the  attempt  to  dis- 
charge their  guns  and  their  duty  ;  but  of  one  fact  there  was  no 
doubt,  that  however  well  fortified  may  be  the  approaches  to  Sevas- 
topol by  sea,  there  is  nothing  whatever  to  prevent  any  number  of 
troops  landing  a  few  miles  to  the  south  of  the  town,  in  one  of  the 
six  convenient  bays  with  which  the  coast,  as  far  as  Cape  Kherson, 
is  indented,  and  marching  down  the  main  street  (provided  they  were 
strong  enough  to  defeat  any  military  force  that  might  be  opposed 
to  them  in  the  open  field),  sack  the  town,  and  burn  the  fleet. 

"  Notwithstanding  the  large  numerical  force  which  occupies  the 
south  of  Russia,  the  greatest  difficulty  must  attend  the  concentration 
of  the  army  upon  any  one  point,  until  railroads  intersect  the  empire, 
and  its  water-communication  is  improved.  At  present,  except  during 
four  months  in  the  year,  the  climate  alone  oflfers  obstacles  almost 
insurmountable  to  the  movements  of  large  bodies  of  men  ;  the  roads 
are  impassable  for  pedestrians  in  spring  and  autumn,  and  in  winter 
the  severity  of  the  weather  precludes  the  possibility  of  troops  cross- 
ing the  dreary  steppes.  But  in  addition  to  the  natural  impediments 
presented  by  the  configuration  of  the  country,  the  absence  of  roads, 
and  the  rigour  of  the  climate,  all  military  operations  are  crippled 
by  that  same  system  of  wholesale  corruption  so  successfully  carried 
on  in  the  naval  department. 

*'  Indeed,  it  would  be  most  unfair  if  one  service  monopolised  all 
the  profits  arising  from  this  source.  The  accounts  I  received  of  the 
war  in  the  Caucasus,  from  those  who  had  been  present,  exceeded 
any  thing  of  the  sort  I  could  have  conceived  possible.  The  fright- 
ful mortality  among  the  troops  employed  there  amounts  to  nearly 
twenty  thousand  annually.  Of  these,  far  the  greater  part  fall  victims 
to  disease  and  starvation,  attributable  to  the  rapacity  of  their  com- 
manding officers,  who  trade  in  the  commissariat  so  extensively  that 
they  speedily  acquire  large  fortunes.  As  they  are  subject  to  no 
control  in  their  dealings  with  contractors  for  supplying  their  require- 
ments, there  is  nothing  to  check  the  ardour  of  speculation  ;  and  the 
profits  enjoyed  by  the  colonel  of  a  regiment  are  calculated  at  3000/. 
or  4000/.  a-year,  besides  his  pay.  It  is  scarcely  possible  to  appre- 
hend at  a  glance  the  full  effect  of  a  process  so  paralysing  to  the  thews 
and  sinews  of  war ;  or  at  once  to  realise  the  fact,  that  the  Russian 
army,  numerically  so  far  superior  to  that  of  any  European  power, 
and  supplied  from  sources  wiiich  appear  inexhaustible,  is  really  in 
a  most  inefficient  condition,  and  scarcely  worthy  of  that  exaggerated 
estimate  which  the  British  public  seem  to  have  formed  of  its  capa- 


The  Czar  mid  his  Subjects,  547 

bilities.  It  is  not  upon  the  plains  of  Krasna  Selo  or  Vosnesensck, 
amid  the  dazzh'ng  gUtter  of  a  grand  field-day  in  the  Emperor's  pre- 
sence, that  any  correct  notion  can  be  formed  of  the  Russian  army. 
The  imperial  plaything  assumes  a  very  different  appearance  in  the 
remote  Cossack  guard-house,  where  1  have  scarcely  been  able  to 
recognise  the  soldier  in  the  tattered  and  miserably-equipped  being 
before  me,  or  on  a  harassing  march,  or  in  the  presence  of  an  in- 
domitable enemy. 

"  We  have  only  to  remember  that  the  present  position  of  Russia 
in  the  Caucasus  has  remained  unaltered  for  the  last  twenty-two 
years,  notwithstanding  the  vast  resources  which  have  been  brought 
to  bear  upon  this  interminable  war,  to  perceive  that  the  brilliant 
appearance  of  the  Russian  soldier  on  parade  affords  no  criterion  of 
his  efficiency  in  the  field  of  battle  ;  while  no  more  convincing  proof 
could  be  desired  of  the  gross  corruption  and  mismanagement  which 
characterises  the  proceedings  of  this  campaign,  than  the  fact  of  an 
overwhelming  force  of  two  hundred  thousand  men  being  held  in 
check  for  so  long  a  period  by  the  small  but  gallant  band  who  are 
fighting  for  their  snow-clad  mountains  and  their  liberty. 

"  When  we  returned  to  Sevastopol  not  long  afterwards,  we  heard 
that  the  Emperor  had  left  the  military  portion  of  the  community  a 
reminiscence  that  was  calculated  to  produce  a  deep  impression.    He 
had  scarcely    terminated    his   flying  visit,   and   the    smoke   of  the 
steamer  by  which  he  returned  to  Odessa  still  hung  upon  the  horizon, 
■when,  in  a  smothered  whisper,  one  soldier  confided  to  another  that 
their  ranks  had  received  an  addition  ;    and  when  we  returned  to 
Sevastopol,  it  was  said  that  the  late  governor,  in  a  significant  white 
costume,  was  employed  with  the  rest  of  the  gang  upon  the  streets 
he  had  a  fortnight  before  rolled  proudly  through  with  all  the  pomp 
and  circumstance  befitting  his  high  position.      No  dilatory  trial  had 
reduced  him  to  the  condition  in  which  he  now  appeared  before  the 
inhabitants  of  his  late  government.     The  fiat  had  gone  forth,  and 
the  general  commanding  became  the  convict  sweeping.     I  was  very 
anxious   to  discover  what   crime   had  been  deemed  worthy  of  so 
severe  a  punishment,  but  upon  no  two  occasions  was  the  same  reason 
assigned,  so  it  was  very  clear  that  nobody  knew  ;   and  probably  no 
one  found  it  more  difficult  than  the  sufferer  himself  to  single  out 
the   particular  misdemeanour   for   which   he  was   disgraced.     The 
general  opinion  seemed  to  be,  that  the  unfortunate  man  had  been 
lulled  into  security  in  his  remote  province,  and,  fancying  himself 
unnoticed  in  this  distant  corner  of  the   empire,  had  neglected  to 
practise  that  customary  caution,  in  the  appropriation  of  his  bribes 
and  other  perquisites,  which  is  the  first  qualification  of  a  man  in  an 
elevated  position  in  Russia,  and  without  which  he  can  never  look 
for  promotion  in  the  army,  or  make  a  successful  governor.     At  the 
•same   time,  the  expenses  attendant   upon  this  latter  position   are 
generally  so  very  heavy,  that  it  does  not  answer  to  be  too  timid  or 
fastidious. 

*'  1  think  it  is  De  Custine  who  says  that  no  half-measures  in 


548  The  Czar  and  his  Subjects* 

plundering  will  do  here.  If  a  man  has  not,  during  the  time  of  his 
holding  an  appointment,  sufficiently  enriched  himself  to  be  able  to- 
bribe  the  judges  who  try  him  for  his  dishonest  practices,  he  will 
certainly  end  his  days  in  Siberia ;  so  that,  if  the  fraud  has  not  beea 
extensive,  the  margin  left  will  barely  remunerate  him  for  his  trouble 

and  anxiety.     The  probability  is,  that  General had  calculated 

upon  the  usual  court  of  inquiry,  and  was  consequently  quite  un- 
prepared for  the  decided  measures  of  his  imperial  master.'* 

Mr.  Oliphant's  ideas  as  to  the  condition  of  the  empire  are 
entirely  confirmed  by  Dr.  Lee,  whose  book  is  the  more  trust- 
worthy from  the  fact  that  it  has  not  been  got  up  to  meet  the- 
present  demand  for  anti-Russian  declamation.  In  substance,, 
it  consists  of  the  doctor's  journal,  kept  by  him  in  the  years 
1825  and  1826,  memorable  in  Russia  for  the  death  of  Alexan- 
der and  the  accession  of  Nicholas.  His  circumstances,  also, 
were  favourable  for  observation  of  the  brighter  side  of  things,, 
rather  than  the  blacker.  He  was  attached  to  the  family  of 
Count  Woronzow,  one  of  the  very  first  and  most  enlightened 
of  Russian  nobility,  in  the  capacity  of  household  physician. 
He  came  persona%  into  contact  with  the  Emperor  Alexan- 
der, and,  like  most  people,  was  favourably  impressed  with  his 
personal  character  and  natural  amiableness  of  disposition.  In 
fact,  in  company  with  a  small  party,  he  dined  with  Alexander 
at  Aloupka  only  a  few  days  before  his  death.  They  talked 
about  venomous  reptiles,  liomoeopathy,  and  a  scheme  which 
the  emperor  professed  of  giving  up  the  throne,  and  settling  as 
a  private  gentleman  in  the  Crimea.  He  even  decided  where 
he  meant  to  live,  and  announced  that  he  should  wear  the 
costume  of  the  people.  The  next  day  Alexander  left  for 
Taganrog.  There  he  was  suddenly  taken  ill,  and  in  two  or 
three  days  was  dead.  He  had  caught  the  common  fever  of 
the  country,  and  refused  to  take  any  medicine  until  he  was- 
persuaded  to  submit  by  the  priest  who  confessed  him.  He 
was  attended  to  the  last  by  his  British  physician,  Sir  James 
Wylie.  On  Sir  James's  report.  Dr.  Lee  expresses  his  utter 
disbelief  in  the  story  that  Alexander  was  poisoned. 

Dr.  Lee's  impressions  of  the  whole  Russian  people  were^ 
as  we  have  said,  of  the  worst  description.  The  whole  energies 
of  the  government  are  given  to  one  thing  —  the  army  and 
navy,  especially  the  former.  For  this  the  country  is  literally 
ruined.  A  man  is  regarded  in  one  of  two  aspects;  either  as- 
an  animated  spade  for  digging  the  ground,  or  as  a  combination 
of  bones  and  muscles  ibr  undergoing  drill  and  carrying  a 
musket.  St.  Petersburg,  with  the  magnificence  of  whose 
public  buildings  he  was  greatly  struck.  Dr.  Lee  conceived  ta 
be  the  gulf  in  which  the  wealth  of  the  empire   was  sunk. 


The  Czar  and  his  Subjects,  549 

With  all  the  splendour  of  its  government  edifices,  and  of  the 
houses  of  its  great  nobles,  the  city,  as  a  whole,  is  a  glaring 
combination  of  magnificence  and  meanness ;  a  compound  of 
Russian  filth  and  degradation,  with  English,  French,  and 
Italian  luxuries. 

"It  is  the  masquerade  part  only  which  is  clean  ;  the  courts  and 
lanes  of  the  city  are  more  filthy  than  it  is  possible  for  an  English- 
man to  conceive.  There  is  not  a  tolerable  hotel  in  St.  Petersburg : 
they  are  dirty,  poor,  beggarly,  and  excessively  expensive.  The 
only  possible  means  of  living  is  to  get  into  furnished  lodgings.  I 
inquired  why  there  were  not  hotels  kept  by  Germans  and  French. 
His  reply  was  :  the  Russians  are  so  dirty,  that  if  good  furniture 
were  placed  in  the  apartments  it  would  soon  be  completely  ruined 
by  them,  so  degraded  are  their  habits/' 

The  morals  of  St.  Petersburg  Dr.  Lee  indicates  by  his 
observation  of  the  mode  of  keeping  Easter : 

*'  To-night  is  a  great  ceremony  in  the  Russian  Church,  the 
Resurrection  of  our  Saviour.  Numbers  of  people  dead-drunk  in  the 
streets.'* 

Of  the  Russian  nobility  (with  few  exceptions)  Dr.  Lee 
formed  a  low  opinion.  A  Scotch  physician,  a  professor  at 
Moscow,  gave  him  the  following  as  the  result  of  his  own  ex- 
perience of  them  : 

"  Though  in  excellent  practice,  and  physician  to  this  hospital, 
he  told  me  that,  were  he  able,  he  would  not  remain  twelve  hours 
in  Russia.  To  an  Englishman,  he  said,  the  practice  in  this  country 
is  the  most  disagreeable  thing  possible.  In  the  nobility,  you  have 
generally  to  deal  with  mere  spoiled  children;  persons  full  of  ab- 
surd prejudices,  and  very  destitute  of  information.  Of  the  lower 
classes,  he  said,  the  physician  should  constantly  be  accompanied 
with  the  knout,  otherwise  his  orders  will  receive  no  attention. 
They  have  no  education,  they  have  no  good  example  shown  them 
by  their  parents  or  by  any  other ;  and,  in  consequence,  almost  all, 
without  exception,  are  barbarous  in  their  manners,  and  only  to  be 
commanded  by  the  knout." 

Professional  occupations  and  tastes  made  Dr.  Lee  ac- 
quainted with  certain  matters  which  ordinary  travellers  would 
overlook.  In  Moscow  he  was  puzzled  to  account  for  the 
absolute  blackness  of  the  middle-class  women's  teeth.  These 
women  paint  their  faces  excessively,  and  the  discoloration 
of  their  teeth  is  said  to  be  the  result.  From  the  remarks  Dr. 
Lee  makes  on  the  prevalent  characters  of  diseases  among  the 
Russian  poor,  especially  in  the  hospitals,  it  is  clear  that  their 
physical  wretchedness  must  be  extreme.  They  have  neither 
the  complaints  of  the  English  labouring  classes,  nor  of  wild 


550  TJie  Czar  and  his  Subjects, 

hordes  of  vigorous  barbarians ;  but  those  of  a  starved,  frozen, 
feeble,  and  constitutionally  diseased  race. 

All  that  Dr.  Lee  heard  of  the  unparalleled  corruption  of 
Russian  officials  is  in  accordance  with  the  prevailing  opinion. 
Nicholas  once  organised  a  secret  police  for  the  detection  of 
official  peculation  and  the  like :  what  it  has  effected  we  know 
not ;  but  we  should  be  greatly  astonished  if  such  a  remedy 
had  not  aggravated  the  disease. 

Altogether,  Dr.  Lee's  book  is  both  amusing  and  informing. 
He  winds  it  up  with  the  following  estimate  of  the  deeds  of 
the  present  Czar : 

**  The  consumption  of  human  life  during  the  reign  of  the  Em- 
peror Nicholas  has  been  enormous.  He  has  carried  on  war  with 
the  Circassians  uninterruptedly  for  twenty-eight  years,  at  an  annual 
cost  of  20,000  lives  on  the  Russian  side  alone,  making  a  grand 
total  of  nearly  600,000  Russians  who  have  perished  in  attempting 
to  subdue  the  independence  of  Circassia. 

"  In  the  two  campaigns  against  Persia,  as  in  the  Hungarian 
campaign  and  the  two  Polish  campaigns  of  1831-32,  there  are  not 
sufficient  data  to  enable  me  to  form  a  correct  estimate  of  the  Rus- 
sian loss,  which  was,  however,  in  the  Persian  and  Polish  wars, 
enormous. 

"In  the  two  campaigns  against  Turkey  of  1828-29,  300,000 
fell ;  of  whom,  how^ever,  50,000  perished  by  the  plague. 

"  The  loss  of  the  Russians,  in  various  ways,  since  the  entry  of 
the  Danubian  Principalities,  is  understated  at  30,000. 

"  In  these  calculations  it  should  be  borne  in  mind  that  no  esti- 
mate is  attempted  to  be  made  of  the  sacrifice  of  human  life  on  the 
side  of  those  who  fouglit  for  their  liberties  against  the  aggressions  of 
Russia.  If  this  calculation  were  attempted,  it  is  probable  that  the 
result  would  prove  that  neither  Julius  Caesar,  nor  Alexander,  nor 
even  Tamerlane,  has  been  a  greater  scourge  to  the  human  race  than 
the  present  Emperor  Nicholas." 

Mr.  Cole's  Russia  and  the  Russians  is  a  made-up,  but 
fluently  written  and  readable  sketch.  It  contains  nothing 
new ;  but  as  a  hand-book  for  persons  who  have  not  much  pre- 
vious knowledge  of  Russian  politics  and  proceedings,  it  will 
be  found  useful  and  entertaining  ;  though  its  author,  we  take 
it,  is  by  no  means  a  particularly  wise  individual  himself.  One 
of  the  most  curious  parts  of  his  compilation  is  his  account 
of  the  eccentricities  of  the  savage  madman  Paul,  the  father 
of  Nicholas.  Not  long  before  his  death,  Paul  was  possessed 
with  a  violent  dread  of  every  thing  English : 

"  His  mind  seemed  for  the  moment  to  be  concentrated  on 
devising  petty  schemes  of  annoyance  against  the  English  residents 
at   the   capital.      From  these,   even  the  ambassador,   Sir  Charles 


The  Czar  and  his  Subjects.  551 

(afterwards  Lord)  Whitvvorth,  was  not  exempt.  The  sledge  of 
Count  Razumousky,  who  had  offended  him,  was,  by  the  Emperor's 
order,  broken  into  small  pieces,  while  he  stood  by  and  directed  the 
work.  It  happened  to  be  of  a  blue  colour,  and  the  Count's  servants 
wore  red  liveries.  Upon  which  an  ukase  was  immediately  pub- 
lished, prohibiting  throughout  the  empire  of  all  the  Russias,  the  use 
of  blue  in  ornamenting  sledges,  and  of  red  liveries.  In  consequence 
of  this  sage  decree,  the  Britisli  ambassador  and  many  others  were 
compelled  to  change  their  equipages.  One  evening,  at  his  tlieatre 
in  the  palace  of  the  Hermitage,  a  French  piece  was  performed,  in 
which  the  story  of  the  English  gunpowder  plot  was  introduced. 
The  Emperor  was  observed  to  listen  to  it  with  earnest  attention, 
and  as  soon  as  it  was  over  he  ordered  all  the  vaults  beneath  the 
palace  to  be  searched. 

*'  His  wild  eccentricities  would  have  been  sometimes  amusing, 
but  that  they  were  never  divested  of  cruelty  or  mischief.  Coming 
down  the  street  called  the  Perspective,  he  perceived  a  nobleman 
who  was  taking  his  walk,  and  had  stopped  to  look  at  some  work- 
men who  were  planting  trees  by  the  monarch's  order.  *  What  are 
you  doing  V  said  the  Emperor.  *  Merely  seeing  the  men  work,* 
replied  the  nobleman.  '  Oh,  is  that  your  employment  ?  Take  off 
his  pelisse,  and  give  him  a  spade !     Tliere,  now  work  yourself!' 

"  If  any  family  received  visitors  of  an  evening  ;  if  four 
people  w'ere  seen  walking  together  ;  if  any  one  spoke  too  loud,  or 
whistled,  or  sang,  or  looked  inquisitive,  or  examined  any  public 
building  with  attention,  or  appeared  thoughtful,  or  stopped  to  gaze 
round  him,  or  stood  still  in  the  streets,  or  walked  too  fast  or  too 
slow,  he  was  liable  to  be  cross-questioned  as  to  his  motives,  to 
be  reprimanded  and  insulted  by  the  authorities.  The  dress  of 
Englishmen,  in  particular,  was  regulated  by  the  police.  They  were 
ordered  to  wear  a  three-cornered  hat,  or,  as  a  substitute,  a  round  hat 
pinned  up  with  three  corners ;  a  long  queue  measured  to  the  eighth 
of  an  inch,  with  a  curl  at  the  end;  a  single-breasted  coat  and  waist- 
coat ;  buckles  at  the  knees  and  in  the  shoes  instead  of  strings. 
Orders  were  given  to  arrest  any  person  who  should  be  found  wear- 
ing pantaloons.  An  English  servant  was  dragged  from  behind  a 
sledge  and  caned  in  the  streets  for  having  too  thick  a  neckcloth  ;  and 
if  it  had  been  too  thin,  that  pretext  would  have  been  used  for  a 
similar  punishment.  After  every  precaution,  the  dress  when  put 
on  never  satisfied  the  police  or  the  Emperor — either  the  hat  was 
not  put  on  straight,  or  the  hair  was  too  short,  or  the  coat  was  not 
cut  square  enough.  A  lady  at  court  wore  her  hair  rather  lower 
on  the  neck  than  was  consistent  with  the  ukase,  whereupon  she  was 
ordered  into  close  confinement  to  be  fed  on  bread  and  water.  A 
gentleman's  hair  fell  a  little  over  his  forehead  while  dancing  at  a 
ball,  upon  which  a  policeman  with  loud  abuse  told  him,  that  if  he 
did  not  instantly  cut  his  hair,  he  would  find  a  soldier  who  should 
shave  his  head. 

"  When  the  ukase  first  appeared  concerning  the  form  of  the  hat. 


552  Chinese  Civilisation  and  Christian  Charity, 

the  son  of  an  English  merchant,  with  a  view  to  baffle  the  poh"ce, 
appeared  in  the  streets  of  St.  Petersburg  having  on  his  head  an 
English  hunting-cap,  at  sight  of  which  the  authorities  were  puzzled. 
"What  could  this  mysterious  integument  be?  'It  was  not  a  cocked 
hat,'  they  said,  'neither  was  it  a  round  hat.'  In  their  embarrass- 
ment they  reported  the  affair  to  the  Emperor,  who  was  as  much 
confounded  as  his  officials.  A  new  ukase  became  indispensable. 
Accordingly  a  fresh  ordinance  was  promulgated  and  levelled  at  the 
hunting-cap ;  but  not  knowing  how  to  describe  the  anomaly,  the 
decree  announced  that  no  person,  on  pain  of  death,  should  ap- 
pear in  public  with  the  tiling  on  his  head  worn  by  the  mercliant's 
son.  An  order  against  wearing  boots  wiili  coloured  tops  was  most 
rigorously  enforced.  The  police-officers  stopped  a  foreigner  driv- 
ing through  the  streets  in  a  pair  of  English  top-boots.  This  gentle- 
man expostulated  with  them,  saying  that  he  had  no  others,  and  cer- 
tainly would  not  cut  off  the  tops  of  his  boots.  Upon  which  the 
officers,  each  seizing  a  leg  as  he  sat  in  his  droshky,  fell  to  work  and 
drew  off  his  boots,  leaving  him  to  go  barefooted  home." 

If  the  next  story  is  true,  the  son  can  play  the  tyrant-fool 
with  success  almost  equal  to  that  which  distinguished  the 
efforts  of  the  father : 

"  The  present  Emperor  Nicholas,  some  time  since,  driving 
along  in  his  droshky,  observed  an  English  gentleman  move  down 
another  street,  apparently,  as  he  tliought,  to  avoid  him.  He  sent 
an  officer  to  ask  why  he  had  done  so,  when  the  Emperor  was 
coming.  The  answer  was,  '  that  he  did  not  see  his  Luperial  Ma- 
jesty.' '  Then  desire  him  to  wear  spectacles  in  future,'  was  the 
immediate  command,  with  wliich  the  delinquent  was  forced  to  com- 
ply during  the  remaineder  of  his  residence  at  St.  Petersburg,  much 
to  his  own  annoyance  and  the  amusement  of  his  friends  ;  for  he  was 
a  remarkably  well  looking  man,  and  piqued  himself  on  his  clear 
sight." 


CHINESE  CIVILISATION  AND  CHRISTIAN  CHAEITY. 

Annals  of  the  Holy  Childhood.     Translated  from  the  French. 
To  be  continued  monthly.     Richardson  and  Son. 

We  rejoice  to  see  that  a  translation  of  the  Annals  of  the  Holy 
Childhood  has  been  undertaken,  and  that  it  is  to  be  published 
in  monthly  numbers.  Of  all  the  institutions  with  which  the 
Churcii  has  been  enriched  in  late  years,  especially  through 
the  sleepless  zeal  and  charity  of  the  French  Churcli,  few  are 
more  interesting  than  that  which  devotes  itself  to  the  preser- 
vation, or,  when  that  is  impossible,  to  the  baptism,  of  the  out- 
cast Chinese  children.     China  is,  in  many  respects,  a  highly 


Chinese  Civilisation  and  Christian  Charity.  553 

civilised  country.  Many  of  our  boasted  inventions,  chain- 
bridges,  for  instance,  and,  we  believe,  the  art  of  engraving, 
China  possessed  long  before  we  did.  Education  has  long  since 
been  carried  out  there  in  a  manner  more  universal  than  in 
any  western  country,  and  has  U)ng  since  been  the  necessary 
condition  of  all  social  and  political  advancement.  Peasants 
leave  cards  on  each  other,  and  social  conventions  are  carried 
to  an  unrivalled  extent.  Yet  in  the  midst  of  all  this  me- 
chanical civilisation,  there  remains  a  barbarism  with  respect  to 
all  things  imaginative,  moral,  or  spiritual,  the  more  hideous 
for  the  varnished  exterior.  Those  who  carve  in  ivory  with 
a  minute  skill  unknown  among  us,  and  who  copy  pictures 
with  such  perfection  that  every  crack  in  the  varnish  hnds  its 
exact  counterpart  in  the  imitation,  have  never  been  able,  in 
their  original  compositions,  to  understand  and  practise  the 
simplest  rules  of  perspective.  Those  who  would  look  with 
horror  on  a  man  who  could  not  read,  and  with  little  respect 
on  a  man  who  could  not  write  verses,  see  no  harm  in  ex- 
posing their  children,  or  in  selling  them.  This  extreme  of 
heartlessness  is  no  security  against  the  wildest  freaks  of  super- 
stition. In  the  second  number  of  the  Annals  we  find  the 
following  statement : 

"  In  some  countries  cruelty,  united  with  superstition,  lias  arrived 
at  such  a  pitch,  that  parents  think  it  very  lucky  if  their  children, 
when  exposed,  be  devoured  by  do^s,  ravens,  or  unclean  animals  ; 
but  it  is  unlucky  should  they  refuse  to  eat  them.  Hence  tliey  also 
refuse,  for  another  reason,  as  impious  as  superstitious,  to  bury  the 
child  when  not  devoured,  and  leave  it  to  be  trod  under  foot  by 
mules,  donkeys,  oxen,  &c. ;  yet  I  remember  that  in  many  towns 
in  the  province  of  Xen-Si,  in  which  I  have  laboured  for  many  years, 
these  people  permit  Christians  to  bury  their  children,  provided  they 
have  been  first  baptised;  because  (say  they)  they  become  by  bap- 
tism the  children  of  Christians." 

The  following  passage  is  a  significant  indication  of  the  de- 
gree in  which  the  heart  may  become  hardened  and  the  moral 
sense  blunted,  where,  notwithstanding,  the  schoolmaster  is 
abroad  : 

"  As  for  the  mothers,  the  majority  expose  their  children  with 
little  or  no  feeling  :  some  there  are,  however,  who  regret  it  deeply. 
Two  years  since  I  was  in  the  Christian  district  of  Pe-kien.  The 
Pagans,  who  seem  to  compose  one-half  of  the  inhabitants,  appeared 
to  me  to  be  very  favourably  disposed  towards  Christianity,  and 
several  among  them  were  deeply  affected  by  my  instruction.  I 
even  had  the  consolation  to  administer  holy  Baptism  to  some  twenty 
of  them.  One  day  a  family,  urged  by  curiosity,  came  to  see  me 
from  the  neighbouring  locality  ;  they  were  husband,  wife,  and  son. 


554  Chinese  CivUisation  and  Christian  Charity, 

I  endeavoured  to  convince  them  of  the  truths  of  our  holy  religion, 
and  exhorted  them  to  embrace  it;  but  it  was  useless.  They  wen 
afraid  of  being  denounced  to  the  mandarin,  deprived  of  their  for- 
tune, and  rotting  in  prison,  or  a  perpetual  exile  in  Tartary.  I  ob- 
served that  the  woman  listened  very  attentively,  and  I  did  not  fai 
to  point  out  to  her  the  danger  of  dying  in  idolatry.  Agitated  bj 
remorse  of  conscience,  she  said  to  me  :  '  Father,  if  I  cannot  nov 
become  a  Christian,  I  promise  at  least,  in  the  presence  of  your  God 
that  from  henceforth  I  shall  not  destroy  my  children  :  it  is  a  wickec 
custom,  and  one  that  I  ever  detested.'  This  woman  imagined  tha 
she  had  said  a  .great  deal,  and  had  taken  a  step  towards  her  con- 
version." 

The  above  statement  is  worthy  the  consideration  of  states- 
man and  philosopher  alike,  among  ourselves.  The  cleares 
evidence  has  proved  that  in  England  infanticide  has  increasec 
to  such  an  extent  that  the  mortality  among  children  in  thos( 
towns  which  boast  burial-clubs,  in  some  enormous  proportioi 
exceeds  that  in  towns  in  which  "  civilisation"  has  not  ye 
been  carried  so  far.  The  disparity  exhibited  by  such  statis 
tical  returns  can  be  no  question  of  dozens  or  scores,  but  o 
hundreds  and  thousands.  It  has  been  proposed  to  cure  tht 
evil  by  legislating  against  burial-clubs !  We  trust  that  W( 
are  saying  nothing  invidious  in  suggesting  that  the  evil  mus 
have  a  deeper  root  than  to  allow  of  being  thus  extirpated 
We  have  to  substitute  a  Christian  for  a  Chinese  civilisatioi 
in  those  towns. 

There  may  perhaps  be  some  disposed  to  ask,  "  With  sucl 
an  amount  of  misery  and  ignorance  at  our  door,  and  as  th(~ 
consequence,  such  a  destruction  of  souls,  are  we  called  up^ 
to  extend  our  interest  to  sufferers  in  Pagan  lands,  and  in 
mote  regions  of  the  globe?"  Such  questions,  however,  pi 
ceed  neither  from  a  deep,  nor  from  a  Catholic  philosoplj 
The  Chinese  are  as  much  children  of  God,  and  creatures 
redeem  whom  our  Lord  became  incarnate  and  died,  as  t1 
English  are ;  and  they  are  in  still  greater  need  of  help.  Tr 
Church  has  sympathies  that  diffuse  themselves  necessarily  ove 
the  whole  world,  and  embrace  the  human  race,  if  awakenec 
at  all.  Those  sympathies,  like  all  others,  require  exercise  fo: 
their  health.  This  planet  is  their  place  of  exercise,  not  an; 
"  sea-girt  isle."  Limited  to  a  narrow  walk,  they  must  droo] 
and  languish.  Strengthened  by  an  ample  career,  they  wil 
then  only  apply  themselves  in  their  full  vigour  to  the  task 
that  lie  close  at  hand.  In  few  modes  can  we  contribute  mor< 
to  the  conversion  of  this  country  to  the  faith  than  by  pro 
curing  for  it  and  for  ourselves  innumerable  intercessors  ii 
the  heavenly  places ;  and  such  are  those  outcasts  whom  w« 


Chinese  Civilisation  and  Christian  Charity,  555 

baptise  previous  to  their  death,  if  we  cannot  train  them  up  to 
be  missionaries  in  their  native  land.    It  is  computed  that  about 
three  milUons  of  children  are  annually  exposed  in  the  East. 
The  funds  sent  over  by  means  of  the  child's  contribution  con- 
nected with  the  present  institute  (6d.  per  annum)  are  so  laid 
out  that  for  every  40Z.  a  thousand  children  receive  baptism. 
Calculations  of  this  sort  will  doubtless  appear  of  a  very  mate- 
rial and  mechanical  order  to  many  persons  attached  to  fine 
phrases  in  religion.     The  subscription  may  perhaps  be  jeered 
at  as  a  "  salvation  fund."     Well  !  it  only  comes  to  this.     We 
believe  in  baptism,  and  also  believe  that  God  works  by  human 
means.     It  is  no  wonder  therefore  that  this  association,  the 
noble  sister  of  that  for  the  *' Propagation  of  the  Faith,"  should 
have  met  with  the  approbation  and  cordial  patronage  of  all 
the  prelates  of  France,  as  well  as  of  those  in  England,  Ireland, 
and  Scotland.     The  Pope  has  also  enriched  it  with  many  in- 
dulgences.    To  buy  children  at  1^.  8d.  per  head,  and  baptise 
them; — it  certainly  does  seem  a  prosaic,  business-like  way  of 
going  to  work  !    The  fact  is,  that  the  bishops  of  the  Establish- 
ment are  men  of  genius,  while  the  Shepherd  of  the  Alban 
Hill  is  a  man  of  business.    We  recommend  this  consideration 
to  our  Protestant  friends  as  likely  to  throw  a  light  upon  many 
things  that  perplex  them.     "  Why  not,  if  only  out  of  regard 
to  good  taste,  or  the  feelings  of  travellers,  remove  the  *  tinsel 
and  muslin'  Madonnas  from  churches,  and  substitute  good 
works  of  art?"     Simply  because  the  existing  images  excite 
devotion;  and  images  are  only  allowed  in  churches  at  all  to 
help  on  the  business   of  saving  souls.     "  If  a  hierarchy  be 
necessary,  why  not  wait  till  the  nation  has  got  used  to  the 
idea  before  establishing  it  ?"     Because  the  increased  number 
of  Catholics  in  England  has  rendered  it  unbusiness-like,  and 
therefore  prejudicial  to  salvation,  to  carry  on    ecclesiastical 
affairs  with  any  other  than  the  normal  organisation  of  the 
Church.      "  Casuistry  !    how  full  it   seems   of  littlenesses  1'* 
But  it  would  be  unbusiness-like  to  neglect  it  in  its  proper 
place,  since  those  who  despise  little  things  perish  by  little  and 
little.     The   same  principle  extends  to  a  crowd   of  matters, 
from  the  minutest  ceremony  insisted  on,  to  the  largest  poli- 
tical concession  of  inalienable  rights  rendered   necessary  by 
the  exigencies  of  the  time.     In  short,  the  Church,  which  is 
the  most  poetic,  is  also  the  most  prosaic  of  all  things;  for 
which  reason  she  has  no  more  scruple  as  to  buying  up  outcast 
Pagan  children,  than  as  to  any  other  mode  of  saving  them. 

The  first  No.  of  the  Annals  contains  a  most  interesting  life 
of  Mgr.  de  Forbin-Janson,  Bishop  of  Nancy  and  Tours,  and 
Primate  of  Lorraine,  by  whom  the  Institute  was  founded.    He 


556  Chinese  Civilisation  and  Christian  Charity, 

was  a  man  of  noble  race,  as  well  as  of  a  noble  heart ;  but  the 
chivalry  that  most  attracted  him  was  that  of  the  Cross.  The 
following  passage  describes  the  origin  of  his  great  enterprise : 

"  Far  beyond  the  mountains  and  rivers,  almost  at  the  extremity 
of  the  known  world,  there  stretches  forth  an  immense  and  formidable 
empire,  the  greatest  in  the  world,  which  in  its  pride  styles  itself 
*  Celestial' — called  by  us  China.  Sheltered  from  the  cannon  and 
the  world  behind  walls  of  the  most  massive  structure,  resisting  the 
advances  of  the  mind  with  the  rack  and  the  torture,  it  seems  capable 
of  contemning  and  setting  at  defiance  all  the  nations  of  the  earth. 
But  what  impediments  can  mountains  and  walls  throw  in  the  way  of 
the  true  soldiers  of  Jesus  Christ?  What  terrors  have  the  rack  and 
the  gibbet  for  the  heirs  and  descendants  of  the  martyrs?  Walls 
are  levelled  before  the  faith  of  Christ ;  the  Divine  Word  penetrates 
through  or  passes  over  their  summit.  No  one  felt  the  truth  of  this 
more  than  Mgr.  de  Janson.  He  traces  in  his  mind  the  plan  of  a 
prodigious  conquest;  and  no  sooner  planned  than  it  is  succeeded 
by  the  firm  resolution  of  its  achievement.  He  has  learned  that,  in 
those  countries  where  moral  degradation  is  the  companion  of  idol- 
atry, barbarous  parents,  deaf  to  tlie  voice  of  nature,  immolate  their 
children,  offer  them  as  food  to  the  vilest  of  animals,  expose  them 
in  the  public  streets,  or  throw  them  into  the  rivers.  His  charitable 
heart  is  sensibly  touched  by  the  fate  of  these  innocent  creatures — 
he  resolves  to  save  their  earthly  life,  to  prepare  them  for  a  heavenly 
one,  and  to  raise  them  to  the  high  mission  of  becoming  the  saviours, 
the  bearers  of  the  good  tidings  of  redemption,  to  their  own  country. 
The  grace  of  God  imbued  him  with  this  noble  idea,  and  he  resolves 
to  consecrate  to  its  execution  a  part  of  his  fortune  and  the  remain- 
der of  his  days.  The  children  he  is  about  to  snatch  from  the  jaws 
of  death  are  destined  to  become  the  apostles  of  their  country,  and 
to  re-enter  it  as  catechists  or  martyrs;  and  (sublime  thought!  worthy 
the  heart  of  a  saint)  in  order  that  innocence  might  be  redeemed  and 
saved  by  innocence,  he  calls  on  all  the  children  of  Christendom  to 
form  a  vast  association,  to  give  their  alms  monthly  and  their  prayers 
daily  for  the  promotion  of  the  object — being  thus  initiated  from  the 
cradle  in  the  noblest  deeds  of  charity  and  love.  It  is  not  a  formi- 
dable army  going  forth  to  overthrow  this  idolatrous  power — to 
achieve  the  mighty  conquest  of  this  new  world  ; — it  is  an  army  of 
little  ones,  who,  ere  they  have  quitted  their  mothers'  knees,  with 
no  other  weapon  than  their  little  innocent  hands  uplifted  to  heaven 
— their  simplicity  and  purity  —  giving  but  their  alms  and  their 
prayers — are  going  to  achieve  more  glorious  victories  than  those  of 
the  most  illustrious  conquerors  ;  and  to  crown  this  work  of  inno- 
cence and  love,  he  places  it  under  the  auspices  and  protection  of 
the  Infant  Jesus.  His  thoughts  and  intentions  soon  transform 
themselves  into  action  ;  every  thing  is  organised  with  astonishing 
rapidity  ;  fatigue  is  totally  disregarded  by  the  worthy  prelate." 

The  second  number  of  the  Annals  includes,  with  many 


The  gradual  Absorption  of  early  Anglicanismf  8^c.     557 

interesting  pastoral  letters  from  the  French  Bishops  on  the 
subject  of  the  Institute,  much  correspondence  from  China  of 
a  deep  importance ;  in  particular,  an  account  of  one  of  the 
most  recent  eastern  martyrs,  which  cannot  be  read  without 
emotion,  except  by  those  who  will  deny  that  there  is  a  word 
of  truth  in  it.  The  blood  of  Peter,  and  Linus,  and  Cletus, 
continues  still  to  flow  on  barbarous  shores.  The  prosaic  and 
business-like  Church  we  have  been  describing  has  a  terrible 
earnestness  about  it.  In  its  "  aggressions"  it  deems  it  a  duty, 
in  the  words  of  a  Cardinal's  oath,  to  witness  for  the  one  Faith, 
"  usque  ad  sanguinem,  inclusive.,'" 

We  heartily  recommend  these  Annals,  and  the  charitable 
work  of  which  they  are  the  record,  to  all  our  readers. 


THE  MODERN  PROTESTANT  HYPOTHESIS  RELATIVE 
TO  THE  GRADUAL  ABSORPTION  OF  EARLY  ANGLI- 
CANISM BY  THE  POPEDOM. 

A  History  of  the  Christian  Church — Middle  Age.  By  C.  Hard- 
wick,  M.A.,  Fellow  of  St.  Catherine's  Hall,  &c.  Cam- 
bridge, M<=Millan  and  Co. 

Nightingale's  statement  relative  to  the  literary  injustice 
practised  on  Catholics,  is  as  applicable  now,  as  it  was  when 
originally  penned.  *'  In  scarcely  a  single  instance,"  he  says, 
**  has  a  case  concerning  the  Catholics  been  fairly  stated,  or 
the  channels  of  history  not  been  grossly,  not  to  say  wickedl}^, 
corrupted."*  Assuredl}^  the  work  recently  published  by  the 
Rev.  C.  Hardwick  will  not  allow  us  to  qualify  this  observa- 
tion. The  History  of  the  Christian  Church  is  one  continuous 
attack  on,  or  misrepresentation  of,  the  faith  of  our  forefathers 
during  a  period  of  nearly  900  years,  and  an  open  or  stealthy 
defence  of  nearly  every  heresiarch  who  has  dared  to  oppose 
the  Church,  and  set  up  a  paper  Pope  for  one  of  flesh  and 
blood,  and  private  opinions  respecting  religion  in  lieu  of  the 
authoritative  declarations  enunciated  by  a  divinely-commis- 
sioned ministry.  Even  blasphemies  based  on  Docetic  views  of 
Christ  and  His  redemption  are  hailed  as  indications  of  "  a 
more  healthy  feeling ;"  and  the  East,  notwithstanding  its 
Arianism,  Nestorianism,  Eutychianism,  and  Sabellianism;  not- 
withstanding, too,  its  portentous  systems,  fashioned  by  Manes, 
Mahomet,  and  the  Massilianists, — is  uniformly  preferred  to  the 
West,  which  strenuously  defended  the  character  of  our  Lord, 
•  Religion*  of  All  Nations. 


558  The  gradual  Absorption  of 

and  opposed  the  above-named,  as  well  as  numerous  otlier 
soul-destroying  heresies.  Believe  the  Church  in  communion 
with  Rome  to  be 

**  A  Babel,  Antichrist,  and  Pope,  and  Devil," 
and  subscribe  certain  statements  opposed  to  all  authentic  his- 
tory, in  connection  with  the  doctrines,  practices,  and  govern- 
mental system  advocated  here  and  elsewhere  for  hundreds  of 
years  prior  to  the  introduction  of  the  Reformation,  and  you 
will  not  fail  to  insure  the  favour  of  the  author  of  the  Chris- 
tian  Church  ! 

It  was  hardly  necessary  for  this  author  to  inform  the 
reader  of  the  bias  of  his  mind ;  for  that  bias  is  clearly  indi- 
cated in  every  page  of  his  writings.  "  With  regard  to  the 
opinions,"  he  informs  us,  *'  (or  as  some  of  our  Germanic 
neighbours  would  have  said,  the  stand-point)  of  the  author,  I 
am  willing  to  avow  distinctly  that  I  always  construe  history 
with  the  specific  prepossessions  of  an  Englishman ;  and  what 
is  more,  with  those  which  of  necessity  belong  to  members  of 
the  English  Church."  We  cannot  question  the  accuracy  of 
this  acknowledgment.  The  author  does  construe  history  ac- 
cording to  his  Anglican  prepossessions ;  and  the  result  is,  that 
he  has  not  given  us  a  history  of  the  past,  but  a  history  of  his 
own  interpretations  of  the  past.  He  does  not,  in  order  to 
estimate  the  belief  and  practices  of  former  ages,  either  con- 
sider the  public,  liturgical,  and  monumental  evidences  of  reli- 
gion at  any  given  time,  or  endeavour,  by  a  distinct  appre- 
hension of  the  principles  generative  of  doctrine  and  practice, 
to  throw  himself  back,  as  it  were,  upon  the  times  which  he 
pretends  to  describe;  but,  instead  of  this,  he  puzzles  him- 
self with  words,  or  the  ebullitions  of  proscribed  and  con- 
demned dogmatisers,  or  the  theories  of  a  few  schoolmen, 
and  then,  judging  all  things  by  the  Anglicanism  of  the  nine- 
teenth century,  pronounces  sentence  on  the  former  faith  of 
Christendom.  To  write  thus,  is  not  to  write  history.  An 
apology,  derived  from  the  worst  sources,  may  indeed  in  this 
manner  be  drawn  up  for  any  kind  of  sectarianism ;  but  the 
page  of  history  will  receive  no  addition  from  such  a  docu- 
ment. From  the  historian  we  require  a  clear  and  full  state- 
ment of  facts ;  we  require  patient  research,  great  discrimi- 
nation, and  a  representation  of  events  just  as  they  appeared 
to  the  men  who  were  the  actors  in  the  scenes  which  are 
described ;  we  require  that  what  is  ancient  and  venerable  and 
Catholic  be  represented  as  ancient  and  venerable  and  Catholic, 
and  that  novelty  be  held  up  as  something  novel.  Further,  as 
far  as  may  be,  effects  should  be  traced  to  their  causes ;  and 
these  causes  should  be  brought  forward  as  conspicuously  and 


early  Anglicanism  by  the  Popedom,  569 

prominently  as  contemporary  evidence  may  permit.  In  a 
word,  the  historian  must  consider  himself  to  be  the  chronicler 
o^  facts,  and  not  confound  his  character  with  that  of  the 
romancer,  the  novelist,  or  the  apologist  of  a  party. 

We  look  upon  Mr.  Hardwick's  work  as  a  complete  failure 
in  every  way;  nor  should  w^e  have  condescended  to  notice  it 
but  for  the  following  reasons:  1.  This  History  may,  and  pro- 
bably W'ill,  procure  a  considerable  run.  It  is  not  the  author's 
first  production.  Already  he  has  published  a  volume  of  ser- 
mons, which  has  met  with  tlie  approbation  of  some  reviewers; 
and  his  History  of  the  Articles  of  Religion  has  been  honour- 
ably mentioned  by  the  Guardian,  Christian  Remembrancer, 
and  English  Review,  as  also  by  some  other  journals  both 
domestic  and  foreign.  Deceived  by  the  praises  lavished  on 
former  publications,  numbers  may  feel  disposed  to  purchase 
and  peruse  this  present  work,  which  no  real  scholar  can  praise 
or  recommend  on  any  ground  whatsoever.  2,  But  another 
motive  mainly  impels  us  to  enter  on  the  disagreeable  task  of 
exposure  of  another's  ignorance  and  misrepresentations.  We 
are  fearful  lest  the  appearance  of  learning  may  be  mistaken 
by  the  unlearned  for  its  reality;  lest  the  endless  references  to 
ancient  authors  which  characterise  every  page  of  the  work, 
from  the  first  to  the  last  chapter,  may  be  looked  upon  as 
confirmations  of  positions  unfounded  on  fact,  and  directly 
opposed  to  the  know^n  faith  and  practices  of  those  very  men 
whose  writings  are  so  frequently  and  confidently  appealed  to 
in  favour  of  the  system  **  advocated  by  the  specific  preposses- 
sions of  Englishmen. '  To  expose  this  unfairness,  and  destroy 
the  effect  of  these  references,  which  seem  to  exclaim 

"  Noctem  peccatis  et  fraudibus  objice  nubera," 

becomes  almost  a  duty,  under  existing  circumstances. 

We  shall  not,  however,  attempt  to  follow  our  author  in  his 
extensive  wanderings  through  the  domain  of  religion.  Scarcely 
any  doctrine  or  practice  has  escaped  his  observation  and  cen- 
sure. Images  and  saints  and  relics ;  feasts,  hours,  and  canon- 
isations ;  indulgences,  purgatory,  prayers  for  the  dead,  and 
the  distinction  of  venial  and  mortal  sins;  legends,  saints'  lives, 
and  the  decalogue ;  celibacy  of  the  clergy,  general  councils. 
Scriptures  and  Knights-Templars, — to  omit  numerous  other 
matters  to  which  we  cannot  distinctly  refer  even  en  jpassant, 
— are  brought  under  review,  in  season  and  out  of  season,  to 
receive  the  censure  of  the  modern  *'  historian"  and  the  "  con- 
struction which  the  specific  prepossessions  of  Englishmen" 
have  been  pleased  to  put  upon  them.  To  one  matter  we 
would  wish  to  direct  our  readers'  attention  in  a  more  parti- 

VOL.  I. — NEW  SERIES.  Q  Q 


560  The  gradual  Absorption  of 

cular  manner,  namely,  to  Mr.  Hardwick*s  theory  relative  to 
the  faith  of  the  British  and  Irish  Churches,  and  the  gradual 
extension  of  the  Papal  supremacy.  The  theory  may  be  com- 
prised under  the  following  heads  : 

1.  The  system  advocated  by  St.  Augustine  being  entirely 
of  extraneous  growth,  and  framed  on  the  Roman  model,  dif- 
fered not  a  little  from  that  of  the  British  and  Irish  Churches, 
which  had  no  connection  or  religious  sympathies  with  Rome. 
2.  Both  Britons  and  Irish,  in  fact,  absolutely  rejected  the 
Papal  supremac3^  3.  This  is  manifested,  in  respect  to  the 
former,  by  the  conduct  of  Dinooth  and  the  prelates  who  met 
Augustine  at  the  second  conference,  which  was  held  on  the 
borders  of  the  territories  of  the  Wiccii  and  West  Saxons; 
whilst  the  language  of  Columban  establishes  the  fact  in  regard 
of  the  latter.  4.  In  fact,  the  supremacy  of  Rome  was  a  con- 
sequence of  the  ignorance  of  the  seventh  and  eighth  centuries; 
after  which  periods  it  continued  to  spread,  till,  in  the  eleventh 
and  twelfth  centuries,  it  attained  its  greatest  elevation  under 
the  Pontiffs  Gregory  VII.  and  Innocent  III.  Such  is  the 
system  of  Mr.  Hardwick, — a  system  which  has  not  indeed  the 
charm  of  novelty  to  recommend  it ;  for  Soames,  and  Palmer, 
and  Neander,  whom  Hardwick  blindly  follows,  have  already 
given  to  the  world  the  result  of  their  discoveries  in  search  of 
this  illusory  San  Borondo.  Let  us  see  if  it  can  bear  investi- 
gation ;  if,  on  approaching  to  examine  it  carefully,  it  does  not, 
like  the  fabled  island,  wholly  disappear ;  vanishing  into  thin 
air,  like  every  other  spectral  form. 

Whence,  then,  first,  did  the  Britons  and  Irish  receive  their 
faith  ?  Was  it  from  messengers  sent  by  Rome,  or  were  they 
indebted  for  the  privilege  to  other  missioners,  opposed  to  and 
independent  of  Rome  ?  If  to  Rome  they  owed  their  Christi- 
anity and  their  Church,  then  the  Church  of  the  Anglo-Saxon 
was  not  of  more  extraneous  growth  than  that  of  the  Briton 
and  the  Scot  or  Irishman.  Now,  if  we  know  any  thing  of 
the  conversion  of  Britain,  or  of  the  sister  island  prior  to  the 
occupation  of  the  former  country  by  the  Saxon,  it  is  this, 
that  both  Britons  and  Irish  received  their  rehgion  from  Rome. 
We  are  told  by  Venerable  Bede — and  his  testimony  is  borne 
out  by  every  ancient  writer  who  refers  to  the  christianising 
of  Britain — that  Pope  Eleutherius  sent  hither  missionaries  at 
the  request  of  King  Lucius ;  and  that  subsequently  a  Church 
was  established  here  by  his  authority,  which  faithfully  pro- 
fessed the  faith  which  it  had  originally  received  from  Rome. 
This  origin  of  the  British  Church  is  frequently  referred  to  by 
the  authors  of  the  Liher  Landavensis  and  the  Triads;  and  it 
is  further  established  by  the  fact  of  the  Bishops  of  Britaia 


early  Anglicanism  hy  the  Popedom,  561 

assisting  at  the  Councils  of  Aries  and  Sardica  and  Nice  with 
the  Eastern  and  Western  prelates,  who  professed  the  faith 
and  obeyed  the  instructions  of  Rome,  and  hailed  the  Pontiff 
as  their  head  and  the  spiritual  ruler  of  Christendom. 

Further,  we  are  informed  that  when  the  insidious  and 
snake-like  Pelagians  endeavoured  to  circulate  the  poison  of 
their  heresy  through  the  British  Church,  another  Pontiff — 
Pope  Celestine — sent  hither  two  prelates  from  Gaul  to  defend 
the  ancient  faith.  They  came  in  place  of  the  Pontiff,  opposed 
the  new  dogmatisers,  and  absolutely  crushed  the  rising  heresy. 
The  Britons  had  an  altar  and  a  sacrifice,  and  an  anointed 
priesthood,  such  as  Rome  has  always  had ;  monks  dwelt  with- 
in the  peaceful  cloister,  who  had  solemnly  consecrated  them- 
selves by  vow  to  God  ;  and  the  priesthood  claimed,  and  people 
admitted,  the  ministerial  power  of  "  binding  and  loosing." 

And,  indeed,  what  are  the  differences  which  Mr.  Hard- 
wick  has  discovered  between  the  indigenous  or  Eastern  faith 
of  the  Britons  and  the  extraneous  creed  of  the  Saxon  ?  Has 
any  discrepancy  been  as  yet  found, — found  after  the  careful 
perusal  of  documents,  and  the  ransacking  of  evidence  which 
has  been  brought  to  light  during  the  last  oOO  years  ?  Let  us 
see.  1.  We  are  told  that  Easter  was  kept  on  different  days 
by  the  two  Churches  of  Rome  and  Britain.  2.  That  the 
form  of  the  tonsure  was  dissimilar.  3.  That  in  Baptism  no 
chrism  was  used ;  and  4.  We  are  assured,  on  the  authority 
of  Giesler,  that  the  British  priests  were  married,  and  had  a 
peculiar  liturgy  and  code  of  monastic  laws.  Now,  admitting, 
for  argument's  sake,  all  this  to  be  true,  what  difference  of 
faith  has  been  discovered  ?  None, — absolutely  none.  Not  a 
point  referred  to  even  remotely  touches  upon  belief. 

1.  That  the  Britons  once  kept  Easter  with  the  rest  of  the 
western  world  is  universally  admitted.  This  is  distinctly 
proved  from  the  decisions  of  Aries  and  Nice,  which  were 
received  in  Britain  as  well  as  elsewhere ;  and  the  Roman 
mode  of  keeping  Easter  is  admittedly  the  correct  one.  If  a 
difference*  eventually  existed,  it  can  easily  be  accounted  for. 
After  the  time  of  St.  Patrick,  Rome  adopted  a  more  exact 
cycle  for  the  computation  of  the  paschal-tide  than  had  been 
previously  used ;  instead  of  the  cycle  of  eighty-four  years, 
previously  in  use,  the  more  correct  one  of  nineteen  years  was 
followed.  But  owing  to  the  calamities  of  the  times,  Britain 
was  unacquainted  with  the  change ;  and  hence  originated  the 
difference  and  the  error  alluded  to. 

2.  As  for  the  most  appropriate  form  of  the  tonsure,  this 
is  a  matter  which  we  will  leave  to  the  serious  consideration  of 
the  gentlemen  of  Oxford  and  Cambridge,  who  possess,  if  we 


562  TJie  gradual  Absorption  of 

may  credit  tlie  observations  of  the  present  leader  of  the  House 
of  Commons,  an  abundance  of  learned  leisure ;  assuredly  we 
shall  seek  in  vain  for  a  revelation  on  this  and  similar  subjects. 

3.  Even  if  it  were  true  that  no  chrism  was  used  by  the 
British  in  the  administration  of  Baptism,  it  is  clear  that  such 
an  omission  neither  affected  the  sacrament  nor  faith.  But  it 
is  not  true,  as  far  at  least  as  any  proof  has  been  offered  of 
this  assertion ;  for  the  words  complere  haptismum,  on  which 
the  statement  rests,  have  no  reference  to  Baptism  in  itself: 
they  regard  something  wholly  different  and  distinct  from  Bap- 
tism,— the  sacramental  rite,  known  then  and  now  under  the 
name  of  the  completion  of  Baptism,  to  wit,  Confirmation;  which 
the  Britons,  it  would  seem,  like  the  Catholics  of  the  present 
day,  delayed  to  administer  for  some  time  after  the  adminis- 
tration of  Baptism. 

4.  A  peculiar  liturgy,  or  distinctive  monastic  rules,  do 
not  of  themselves  involve  the  supposition  of  any  peculiarity 
in  belief.  Down  to  the  period  of  the  Reformation,  Bangor 
and  York,  Sarum  and  Hereford,  had,  though  Catholic  in  the 
strictest  sense  of  the  word,  and  closely  united  to  Rome,  their 
peculiar  uses  or  liturgies ;  and  of  the  diversity  of  monastic 
rules  in  the  Catholic  Church  no  one  can  be  ignorant.  These 
differences  were  a  consequence  of  union  with  Rome ;  which, 
for  wise  ends, — ends  suggested  by  local  needs,  or  local  habits, 
or  local  gratitude, — sanctioned  and  authorised  the  diversity. 

5.  We  must  confess  that,  though  we  have  devoted  some 
time  to  the  examination,  we  have  failed  altogether  to  discover 
either  the  names,  the  abodes,  the  characters,  or  the  deeds  of 
the  wives  of  British  clergymen.  Some  discoverer  of  "  Per- 
nanzabulo,  or  the  lost  Church  found,"  may  perhaps  in  later 
days  interest  the  world  by  the  publication  of  records  entitled 
"  the  lost  wife  found  \'  but  as  yet  we  must  plead  wholly  ig- 
norant of  the  fact.  Nor  do  w^e  think  that  Mr.  Hardwick 
would  have  contented  himself  with  referring  to  Giesler  as  his 
only  authority,  had  the  discovery  been  very  certain.  We  do 
indeed  learn  from  Gildas,  that  some  of  the  British  clergy  dis- 
graced their  profession  by  the  irregularity  of  their  lives  prior 
to  the  scourging  which  they  received  from  the  Saxon :  they 
*'  expelled  from  their  houses  their  religious  mother  perhaps, 
or  their  sisters,  and  familiarly  and  indecently  entertained 
strange  women,  as  if  it  were  for  some  secret  office, 
debasing  themselves  unto  such  bad  creatures ;"  but  of  a  wife, 
we  repeat  it,  we  find  no  mention  whatsoever  in  the  history  of 
the  British  Church  from  the  year  179  down  to  the  year  597. 
Now,  had  there  existed  such  a  class  of  clerical  helpmates, 
surely  we  must  have  heard  of  them.     Anglicanism  has  not 


early  Anglicanism  hy  the  Popedom,  6QS 

lasted  as  long  as  the  British  Church;  but  can  the  history  of 
Anglicanism  be  handed  dovvn  to  any  age  without  numerous 
and  very  distinct  references  to  tlie  wives  and  families  of  the 
clerical  body  ?  We  think  not ;  and  further,  we  are  decidedly 
of  opinion  that  the  wives  of  British  bishops  and  priests  would 
not  have  been  passed  unnoticed,  had  they  ever  existed.  We 
read  of  the  illicit  intercourse  of  the  clergy,  and  we  are  even 
told  why  mothers  and  sisters  are  quietly  sent  away :  if  there 
were  wives  in  the  manse  or  the  palace,  why  are  not  they  men- 
tioned, as  well  as  mothers,  sisters,  and  abandoned  characters? 
How  did  the  wives  treat  the  destroyers  of  their  happiness 
and  the  infringers  of  their  rights  ?  what  was  done  with  them  ? 

The  proofs,  then,  of  the  existence  of  a  Church  in  this 
country,  not  Roman,  are  none  ;  the  evidences  all  look  one  way 
— they  distinctly  point  to  Rome  as  the  founder  and  the  con- 
servator of  the  British  Church,  as  well  as  of  the  Church  of 
the  Saxon  :  the  origin  of  both  was  equally  extraneous. 

Nor  are  we  left  in  the  dark  concerning  the  origin  of  the 
Irish  Church.  Prosper,  who  wrote  in  the  year  440,  and  who 
was  raised  to  the  responsible  position  of  secretary  to  Pope 
Celestine,  informs  us,  that  "  whilst  Celestine  strove  to  keep 
the  Roman  island  (Britain)  Catholic,  he  made  a  barbarous 
one  (Ireland)  Christian."*  By  this  author,  too,  we  are  as- 
sured that  Palladius  was  the  first  bishop  sent  by  the  Pontiff 
to  Ireland  ;  \  and  his  testimony  is  distinctly  referred  to  by  Ve- 
nerable Bede,  and  confirmed  by  all  other  authorities  of  an 
ancient  date  whose  writings  have  come  down  to  our  times, 
Columban  avers  that  to  Rome  Ireland  owed  her  Christianity. 
*'  We  are  Irish,"  he  says,  "  receiving  nothing  beyond  the 
evangelical  and  apostolical  doctrine.  None  of  us  has  been  a 
heretic,  none  a  Jew,  none  a  schismatic;  but  the  faith,  just  as 
it  was  originally  handed  down  by  you,  the  successors,  to  wit, 
of  the  holy  Apostles,  is  held  unshaken.  ...  I  have  pro- 
mised for  you  that  the  Roman  Church  would  defend  no  here- 
tic against  the  Catholic  faith,  as  it  beseems  the  scholars  to 
think  of  the  master."  J  Equally  distinct  is  the  testimony  of 
Probus,  who  wrote  the  life  of  St.  Patrick  in  the  ninth  cen- 
tury. "  Palladius,"  he  observes,  "  archdeacon  of  Pope  Ce- 
lestine, who  was  the  forty-fifth  from  St.  Peter  who  ruled  the 
Apostolic  See,  was  ordained  by  this  Pope  (Celestine),  and 
sent  to  convert  this  island."  §  Again,  we  read  the  following 
words  in  the  Annals  of  the  four  Masters  :  "In  this  year  (430) 
Celestine,  the  Pope,  sent  Palladius,  the  Bishop  of  Ireland,  to 

*  Contra  Collat.  c.  xli.  f  Idem  ad  ann.  434. 

X  Epist.  ad  Bonif.  apud  Galland.  t.  xii.  p.  352. 
§  De  Vitii  S.  Patricii  apud  Bedam. 


564  The  gradual  Absorption  of 

preach  the  faith  to  the  Irish."*  To  be  brief,  if  tlie  reader 
will  consult  the  Antiquities  of  Usher,  he  will  find  it  clearly 
proved  that  Rome  sent  missioners  to  Ireland,  and  that  Irish 
prelates  repaired  to  Rome  on  matters  connected  with  religion, 
from  the  earliest  period,  as  regularly  as  have  their  successors 
in  more  modern  times,  notwithstanding  the  difficulties  and 
dangers  which  travellers  had  formerly  to  experience. 

And  Ireland's  second  bishop  and  apostle,  St.  Patrick,  re- 
ceived his  mission  from  Rome,  even  as  Palladius  had  done.  Of 
this  we  are  assured  by  Mark,  who  wrote  the  life  of  St.  Kieran, 
as  also  by  Nennius,  and  others.  Since  the  testimony  is 
nearly  in  every  case  substantially  the  same,  and  expressed  in 
similar  language,  we  shall  content  ourselves  with  recording- 
the  precise  words  of  the  second-named  author,  the  well-known 
Nennius :  "  When  the  death  of  Bishop  Palladius  was  made 
known,  he  (Patrick)  was  sent  by  Celestine,  the  Roinan  Pon- 
tiff, ...  to  convert  the  Irish  to  the  faith  of  the  Holy  Tri- 
nity." f  Clearly  both  the  Britons  and  the  Irish  owed  their 
faith  to  the  Pope's  zeal  and  apostolical  endeavours ;  and  the 
faith  of  the  Saxon  was  not  more  extraneous  than  that  which 
Britain  and  Ireland  professed  prior  to  the  advent  of  Augus- 
tine and  his  companions.  If  Augustine  offered  up  the  Mass 
and  prayed  for  the  dead,  and  invoked  the  aid  and  trusted  in 
the  intercession  of  blessed  Saints ;  if  he  "  changed  the  bread 
and  wine  into  the  Body  and  Blood  of  the  Lord ;"  if  monks 
taught  and  sang  the  praises  of  Almighty  God, — did  not  the 
Britons  and  the  Irish  too  offer  up  the  unbloody  sacrifice,  pray 
for  departed  friends,  invoke  Mary  and  Bridget,  and  adorn  the 
land  with  holy  houses  for  the  reception  of  the  cowled  frater- 
nity ?  Yes ;  and  reference  to  ancient  authorities  will  satisfy 
any  dispassionate  reader  on  this  head.  And  further,  we  find 
Irishmen  toiling  with  Italians,  Britons,  and  Gauls,  in  the  dis- 
charge of  tlie  duties  of  the  ministry,  in  nearly  every  savage 
and  unconverted  country  of  Europe.  All  this  looks  like 
unity  of  faith,  emanating  from  the  same  source,  and  tending 
to  one  great  end — the  spread,  not  of  an  insular,  isolated,  and 
national  creed,  but  of  a  Catholic  Church, — a  Church  which 
knew  of  no  other  limits  to  her  rights  and  capabilities  than  the 
boundaries  of  the  habitable  globe. 

But,  secondly,  did  not  both  Britons  and  Irishmen  reject,  at 
all  events,  the  supremacy  of  the  Roman  Pontiffs?  was  not  this 
an  unfounded  claim,  originating  in  the  ignorance  of  society 
and  of  the  Church  at  large,  and  the  cunning  and  restless  am- 
bition of  the  successors  of  the  fisherman  ?     There  is  not  so 

*  Apud  Scrip.  Reg.  Hibern,  t.  iii.  p.  9G. 
t  Hist.  Brit.  p.  80-81,  and  Usher,  p.  4(J9. 


early  Anglicanism  hy  the  Popedom,  565 

much  as  a  shadow  of  evidence  in  favour  of  the  reality  of  this 
fondly-cherished  day-dream.  The  only  plea  ever  set  up  for 
the  maintenance  of  this  opinion — so  far  at  least  as  the  British 
Church  is  concerned — is  the  opposition  made  to  Augustine  by 
the  bishops  and  monks,  who  met  together  on  the  confines  of 
the  territory  of  the  Wiccii  and  West  Saxons  about  the  year 
603.  Now,  what  are  the  facts  connected  with  this  meeting 
which  have  been  handed  down  to  us?  These:  1.  Seven 
British  prelates  and  many  learned  men — monks  of  the  monas- 
tery of  Bangor-Iscoed — met  Augustine.  2.  Before,  however, 
meeting  in  council,  they  consulted  a  hermit  famed  for  his 
piety  about  the  propriety  of  abandoning,  at  the  request  of 
Augustine,  the  customs  to  which  we  have  already  directed 
the  attention  of  our  readers.  3.  The  answer  given  was  the 
following:  "If  he  be  a  man  of  God,  follow  him;"  and  this 
was  to  be  the  evidence  of  Augustine's  character  :  if  he  was 
meek  and  lowly  of  heart,  if  he  rose  at  the  approach  of  the 
Britons,  then  he  was  to  be  recognised  as  the  servant  of  Christ; 
whereas,  if  he  did  not  do  so,  then  were  they  to  reject  him; 
because,  by  omitting  to  rise,  he  would  have  given  an  unequi- 
vocal sign  of  his  contempt  for  those  with  whom  he  was  about 
to  treat.  4.  Unfortunately  Augustine  did  not  rise ;  and  the 
result  was  anger  and  indignation,  and  the  rejection  of  the 
apostle  of  the  Saxons.  5.  Still,  Augustine  addressed  the 
assembled  fathers  ;  he  proposed  that  they  should  keep  Easter, 
and  complete  Baptism  according  to  the  Roman  custom,  and 
join  with  him  in  preaching  to  the  English.  But  this  request 
was  urged  in  vain ;  the  reply  was  a  refusal :  "  they  would, 
they  said,  do  none  of  those  things,  nor  would  they  receive 
him  as  their  archbishop  ;  for,  they  observed,  if  he  would  not 
now  rise  up  to  us,  how  much  more  will  he  contemn  us,  as  of 
no  worth,  if  we  shall  begin  to  be  under  his  subjection!"* 
Such  is  the  amount  oi  historic  evidence  which  we  possess  rela- 
tive to  this  important  conference. f 

Notwithstanding,  then,  first,  all  the  wild  statements  relative 
to  the  Abbot  Dinooth,  the  hero  of  the  Protestant  romance  of 
the  independence  of  the  British  Church  and  the  rejection  of 
the  primacy  of  Rome,  there  is  no  reason  whatsoever  for  as- 
serting that  he  was  even  present  at  the  conference.  2.  The 
authority  of  the  Pontifif  of  Rome  was  not  so  much  as  named, 
much  less  was  it  made  the  matter  of  discussion.  The  Britons 
did,  indeed,  in  accordance  with  the  hermit's  suggestion,  reject 
Augustine  and  his  proposals ;  but  not  on  doctrinal  grounds, 
but  for  reasons  widely  different,  and  of  a  merely  personal 
nature :  he  did  not  rise,  he  did  not  honour  his  visitors ;  and 
*  Bede,  1.  ii.  c.  2.  f  Codex  dip.  -^vi  Sax.  vol.  i.  p.  v. 


566  The  gradual  Absorption  of 

for  this  want  of  attention  they  refused  to  obey  him.  Such  a 
flimsy  pretext,  such  a  tottering  reed,  will  not  surely  suffice  to 
sustain  and  prop  up  the  British  Church;  nor  will  any  sensible 
person  seriously  maintain  that  the  Britons  would,  had  they 
believed  in  their  own  independence,  have  staked  it  on  such  an 
accident  as  the  rising  up  or  sitting  down  of  one  individual. 
The  supposition  is  too  absurd  either  to  be  refuted  or  to  be 
entertained.  Passion  and  crime,  and  the  fear  of  being  de- 
spised, are  the  only  assignable  motives  for  the  rejection,  not 
of  the  supreme  Pontiff,  but  of  Augustine.  They  did  not  want 
the  new  archbishop ;  and  there  was  reason  enougii  for  this 
expression  of  feeling,  in  case  they  were  unprepared  for  such  a 
reformation  as  their  unholy  and  undisciplined  lives  required. 
Assuredly  Pope  Gregory,  who  was  at  least  as  well  acquainted 
with  the  prerogatives  of  his  see  as  either  Dinooth  or  the  Bri- 
tish clergy  can  be  reasonably  supposed  to  have  been  with 
theirs,  claimed  a  right  to  govern  this  country,  as  well  as  Gaul 
and  the  rest  of  Christendom.  And  when  Venerable  Bede 
tells  us  that  this  Pontiff**  bore  the  pontifical  power  over  all 
the  world,  and  was  placed  over  the  Churches  already  reduced 
to  the  faith  of  truth,"*  he  only  stated  a  fact  to  which  the  world, 
both  theoretically  and  practically,  unequivocally  assented.  It 
would  be  well,  too,  if  Mr.  Hardwick,  and  writers  of  the  same 
school,  would  bear  in  mind,  that  if  they  claim  i7ide2)e)idence, 
on  account  of  the  refractoriness  of  some  few  individuals  about 
whom  they  are  thoroughly  ignorant,  for  the  present  English 
Church,  they  are  forced  to  borroiv  their  orders  from  the  Church 
of  that  very  Augustine,  ivith  ivhom  neither  British  bishops  nor 
British  monks  would  at  first  hold  communion  ! 

As  for  the  haughtiness  of  deportment  and  the  threatening 
language  of  Augustine,  "  destructive  of  the  freedom  of  the 
Britons,  which  was  the  signal  for  a  harsh  and  spirited  resist- 
ance" prior  to  the  refusal  of  the  council  to  listen  to  the  arch- 
bishop's demands,  this  is  an  addition  of  our  author's.  In  vain 
will  the  reader  endeavour  to  discover  any  thing  of  this  nature 
in  our  ancient  annals.  But  of  two  things  we  are  informed, 
which  should  not  have  been  omitted,  if  the  reader  is  expected 
to  decide  on  the  respective  merits  of  the  contending  parties. 
Pirst,  we  are  informed  that,  at  a  previous  meeting,  God 
evidenced  the  mission  of  Augustine  by  enabling  him  to  heal 
the  blind ;  and  secondly,  we  are  told  that,  at  the  second  con- 
ference, the  Roman  envoy  prophesied  the  awful  results  which 
too  quickly  followed  the  rejection  of  himself  and  his  proposals. 
These  are  historic  facts, — facts  more  valuable  than  ten  thou- 
sand conjectures  and  theories  and  speeches  framed  for  Di- 

*  L.  ii.  c.  1. 


early  Anglicanism  by  tJie  Popedom,  567 

ii(K)tli  and  his  monks  by  Hardwick,  and  Soames,  and  Lappen- 
berg ;  and,  for  more  reasons  than  one,  these  facts  should  be 
recorded  and  dwelt  upon.  The  miraculous  interposition  is 
as  well  authenticated  as  the  history  of  the  conferences  them- 
selves !  The  mission  from  Rome  was  blessed  by  Heaven,  and 
proved  to  be  Divine. 

After  what  has  been  said  regarding  the  introduction  of 
Christianity  into  Ireland  by  the  Pontiff  Celestine,  it  will  not 
be  requisite  to  write  at  length  about  the  admission  of  the 
Papal  supremacy  by  the  Irish ;  for  every  reader  will  at  once 
see  that  there,  as  elsewhere,  this  dogma  must  have  been  ad- 
mitted with  all  its  consequences.  The  line  of  ministers  had 
its  origin  in  Rome,  and  with  Rome  it  continued  united  dur- 
ing every  change  of  dynasty.  It  was  decreed,  in  a  synod 
presided  over  by  St.  Patrick,  that  "if  any  questions  arise  in 
this  island  (Ireland),  they  are  to  be  referred  to  the  Apostolic 
See."*  Nor  was  this  recognition  merely  a  verbal  one ;  for  on 
the  very  first  occasion  of  serious  dispute  which  arose, — this 
dispute  regarded  the  time  of  keeping  Easter, — it  was  resolved 
that  "  the  question  should  be  referred  to  the  Head  of  Cities;" 
and  accordingly  messengers  were  sent  to  consult  the  oracle  of 
the  Apostolic  See.  On  their  return  in  633,  the  Roman  mode 
of  computing  Easter  was  received  all  over  Munster,  and  in 
the  greater  part  of  Leinster  and  Connaught.  At  last  Adam- 
man  urged  its  reception  in  Ulster;  and  about  the  year  704 
it  was  received  in  every  diocese  throughout  the  northern  dis- 
tricts of  Ireland.-f-  Observe,  again,  the  striking  language  of 
Columban,  about  whose  opinions  Mr.  Hardwick  has  spoken 
in  the  most  dubious  and  hesitating  manner.  "  To  the  Holy 
Lord  and  Roman  Father  in  Christ,  the  most  beautiful  come- 
liness of  the  Church,  the  most  august  flower,  as  it  were,  of 
the  whole  of  drooping  Europe,  the  illustrious  watchman,  &c., 
I,  the  Barjona,  the  lowly  Columban,  send  health  in  Christ." 
He  next  declares,  "  that  it  does  not  become  him  to  discuss 
the  Easter  question  with  the  great  authority  seated  in  the 
chair  of  Peter,  the  Apostle  and  key-bearer."  Afterwards,  he 
asks  what  is  to  be  done  with  those  who  have  been  simonia- 
cally  promoted  to  the  episcopacy,  and  with  others  who,  from 
holy  motives,  leave  the  place  where  they  had  made  their  reli- 
gious profession?"  He  adds,  that  "he  would  have  visited  the 
Pontiff  in  person,  but  for  the  weak  state  of  his  health,"  &c.J 
Boniface  he  styles  "  the  Holy  Lord  and  Apostolic  Father." 
Again  he  alludes  to  his  wish  to  visit  the  Apostolic  See ;  and 
speaking  "  of  the  unity  of  faith"  existing  between  himself  and 

*  Wilkins  Concil.  t.  i.  p.  G.  f  Bede,  1.  v.  c.  15. 

J  Epist.  i.  ad  Greg.  Papam. 


568  The  gradual  Absorption  of 

the  Pontiff,  lie  beseeches  him  to  "strengthen  with  his  lioly 
sanction  the  tradition  of  the  elders,  if  it  be  not  against  faith,'* 
*Svith  whicii  we  may  be  enabled,  through  thy  adjudication, 
to  keep  the  rite  of  Easter  as  we  received  it  from  our  fatliers."* 
In  fine,  he  calls  the  same  Pontiff '*  the  most  beautiful  Head 
of  all  the  Churches  of  the  whole  of  Europe,  .   .  the  very  ele- 
vated  Prelate,   the   Shepherd   of  shepherds;"    and  he   adds, 
*'  we  are  bound  to  the  Chair  of  St.  Peter;"  and  "  through  this 
Chair  Rome  is  great  and  illustrious  amongst  us."     And  his 
scholar  and   biographer,   Jonas,   adopts   throughout  the  lan- 
guage  of  his  master.       Speaking   of  the   contumacious  and 
schismatical  Agrestius,  he  says:  "  On  account  of  the  disagree- 
ment of  the  three  chapters,  the  citizens  of  Aquileia  dissent 
from  the  communion  of  the  Holy  See,  concerning  which  the 
Lord  speaks  in  the  Gospel  to  blessed  Peter,  the  Prince  of  the 
Apostles :  '  Thou  art  Peter,  and  on  this  Rock  I  will  build  my 
Church  ;   and  the  gates  of  hell  shall  not  prevail  against  it.' 
Therefore  coming  to  Aquileia,   he  (Agrestius)   becoming  at 
once  a  member  of  the  schism,  was  separated  from  the  com- 
munion of  the  Holy  See,  and  divided  from  the  communion  of 
the  entire  world,"  &c.f     After  this  period  we  find  men,  like 
Cummian,  consulting  Rome,  as  the  Head  and  Mistress  of  all 
Churches,  and  Pontiifs,  like  Honorius  and  John  IV.,  J  decid- 
ing authoritatively,  and  commanding  obedience  even  in  mat- 
ters merely  of  a  disciplinary  nature  regarding  the  Irish  Church. 
Prelates  and  priests,  like  Dichul  and  Kilian,  are  seen  hasten- 
ing to  the  Pontiff,  in  order  to  ask  his  advice  and  receive  his 
blessing.     In  fact,  nothing  which  can  establish  the  national 
belief  in  the  singular  power  and  prerogatives  of  Rome,  at  any 
after-period,   was   wanting   in   the   earliest   ages  of  Ireland's 
Christianity.     It  has  been  observed  by  an  accurate  scholar  of 
the  Protestant  party,  that  "  the  union  of  European  Christen- 
dom under  the  Pope  was  the  arrangement  v/hich  had  lasted, 
under  God's  providence,  ever  since  the  barbarians  had  been 
christianised  ;  it  was  the  dispensation  which  was  natural  and 
familiar  to  men  ;  the   only  one   they  could  imagine, — a  dis- 
pensation, moreover,  under  whicli  religion  had  achieved  its 
conquests.      The  notion  of  being  independent  of  the  See  of 
Rome  was  one  whicli  was  never  found  among  the  thoughts  of 
a  religious  man  even   as  a  possibility;  which  never  occurred 
even  to  an  irreligious  one,  except  as  involving  disobedience 
and  rebellion."      And  this  writer's  subsequent  remark  is  per- 
tinent, and   deserving    of  Mr.  Hard  wick's  most  serious  con- 
sideration.     "  We  would  have  people  reflect  who  shrink  from 

•  Epist.  ad  Bonif.  IV.  f  Act  S3,  ord.  S.  Benedic.  t.  ii.  p.  110. 

X  Bede,  1.  ii.  c.  xix. 


early  Aiiylicanism  hy  the  Popedom.  569 

looking  with  favour  on  any  person,  or  any  policy,  which 
strengthened  the  See  of  Rome,  that  there  was  a  time  when 
the  authority  of  the  Pope  was  no  controverted  dogma,  when 
it  was  as  much  a  matter  of  course,  even  to  those  who  opposed 
its  exercise,  as  much  an  understood  and  received  point  as  the 
primacy  of  Canterbury  and  the  king's  supremacy  are  with 
us.   ^ 

What  system,  then,  does  Mr.  Hardwick  still  maintain,  in 
the  face  of  all  this  evidence?  Why  this:  "  That  it  was  not 
till  the  Papacy  of  Hadrian  I.  that  a  claim  to  the  pastorship 
of  all  the  Church  was  fully  brought  to  light."  Not  till  the 
Papacy  of  Hadrian  I. !  Why,  has  he  never  read  what  Vener- 
able Bede,  who  died  nearly  forty  years  before  Hadrian's  Pon- 
tificate, stated  relative  to  the  extension  of  the  Papal  jurisdic- 
tion over  the  whole  of  Christendom  ?  Has  he  forgotten  the 
declaration  of  Columban,  and  of  tiiose  other  early  writers  to 
whose  statements  we  have  already  several  times  referred?  Is 
lie  so  grossly  ignorant  of  all  former  history,  of  the  writings  of 
Popes  and  Bishops,  and  of  their  actions  too,  as  not  to  know 
that  the  Pontiffs  appear  at  every  time  vivifying,  animating, 
energising,  ruling  the  whole  Christian  body?  Did  not  Clement 
show  his  power  in  his  conduct  towards  the  Church  of  Corinth? 
Did  not  Victor  too  during  the  pasclial  controversy  ?  Did  Ste- 
phen act  like  one  doubting  of  his  power,  when  threatening 
Cyprian  and  the  prelates  of  the  East ;  and  when  Julius  re- 
stored Athanasius  to  his  see  of  Alexandria,  and  Innocent 
Chrysostom  to  that  of  Constantinople,  did  they  behave  like 
men  who  were  mere  pretenders  and  usurpers  ?  Did  Siricius, 
when  he  stated,  "  that  he  bore  the  burdens  of  all,  as  the  heir 
of  the  government  of  St.  Peter  ?"f  or  Pope  Athanasius,  who 
"  visited  by  letters,  as  far  as  he  was  able,  the  members  of  his 
body  scattered  through  the  various  regions  of  this  earth,  in 
order  to  prevent  profane  iimovations  ?"J  or  Innocent,  who 
said,  "that  his  was  the  solicitude  for  all  the  Churches;"  and 
"that  no  decision  was  decisive  until  approved  of  by  Roman 
authority;"  and  "that  he  had  to  consult  the  common  inte- 
rests of  all  the  Churches  throughout  the  whole  world, "§  use  a 
novel  and  till  then  unheard-of  language?  Did  Zosimus,  wlien 
he  declared  that  "  the  tradition  of  the  Fathers  had  assigned  so 
great  an  authority  to  the  Apostolic  See,  that  no  one  should 
dare  to  dispute  about  a  judgment  given  by  it,  and  that  he 
had  charge  of  all  the  Churches,"  innovate  ?||  and  when  Boni- 


*  British  Critic,  No.  Q>5,  p.  35  (18 1-3).  §  Epist.  xxx.  and  clxxxi. 

f  Epist.  ad  Uimer.  Tarrac.  Episc.  n.  1.  ||  Epist.  xi.  ad  Afros. 

X  Epist.  i.  ad  Joann.  Hieros.  n.  5. 


570  TJie  gradual  Absorption  of 

face*  and  Celestinef  called  Rufus  of  Thessalonica  their  vice- 
gerent,— one  holding  the  place  of  the  Pontiff, — did  that  bishop 
either  disclaim  or  deny  the  position  of  the  Pontiff?  In  fine — 
for  we  must  end  this  matter  somewhere — did  not  Pope  Celes- 
tine  declare  that  "his  charge  regarded  all  men;" J  and  St, 
Leo  assert,  "  that  although  all  pastors  preside  with  great  soli- 
citude over  their  own  flocks,  yet  with  all  of  them  that  solici- 
tude is  shared  by  us ;  nor  is  there  any  one's  administration 
which  is  not  a  portion  of  our  labours;  so  that  whilst  recourse 
is  had  from  every  part  of  the  world  to  the  See  of  the  blessed 
Apostle  Peter,  ...  we  feel  that  the  burden  lies  upon  us  by 
so  much  the  heavier,  as  we  owe  to  all  more  than  any  other  ?"§ 

But  what  is  the  peculiarity  of  Hadrian's  language,  that 
Mr.  Hardwick  should  assign  to  him  so  conspicuous  a  place  in 
the  development  of  the  Papal  supremacy  ?  To  us  his  language 
sounds  much  the  same  as  that  of  all  preceding  Popes.  "  The 
Apostolic  See  is  the  head  of  the  whole  world  and  of  all  the 
Churches  of  God;"  "the  solicitude  of  which,  div'mely  dele- 
gated, is  due  to  all  the  Churches."  Is  this  the  novel  lan- 
guage ?  Why,  there  is  not  one  Pontiff  whose  writings  have 
come  down  to  us  who  does  not  use  either  the  very  word.s 
ascribed  to  Hadrian,  or  expressions  tantnmount  to,  or  even 
stronger  than  the  above.  In  fact,  the  citations  just  adduced 
are  a  distinct  proof  of  this  assertion  ;  and  the  language  of  the 
Pontiffs  was  adopted  unhesitatingly  by  the  prelates  of  the 
early  Church.  In  the  Council  of  Chalcedon,  Rome  is  called 
"  the  head  of  all  Churches,"  and  Leo  the  "  oecumenical  Bi- 
shop," and  "the  foundation  of  the  orthodox  faith." ||  The 
Pontiff  was  known  as  the  Yicar  of  Christ ;  and  it  was  decreed 
that  the  Holy  Roman  Catholic  and  Apostolic  Church  has 
been  raised  above  the  other  Churches,  not  by  any  synodal 
decree,  but  by  the  evangelical  voice  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour 
it  has  received  the  supremacy."  % 

And  to  be  candid,  notwithstanding  his  rashness  and  will- 
ingness to  believe  any  thing  or  every  thing  against  the  right 
of  the  Pontiffs,  in  favour  of  the  pretensions  or  assertions  of 
others,  even  Mr.  Hardwick  shows  that  he  is  not  sure  of  his 
ground.  His  is  a  thermometric  variableness  ;  his  notions  rise 
and  fall  according  to  the  accident  of  approach  to,  or  retrogra- 
dation  from,  the  fervent  language  of  the  orthodox  who  cross 
his  path  at  nearly  every  turn.  For  one  out  of  many  proofs 
which  might  be  pointed  to,  we  refer  the  reader  to  what  he 
says  at  page  40  of  his  history.     Nor,  if  wq  examine  the  evi- 

•  Epist.  V.  §  Serm.  v.  in  Nat.  Ord.  c.  2. 

t  Epist.  iii.  ad  Epis.  Illyr.         ||  Labbe,  t.  iv.  col.  93,  399,  and  424. 

J  L.  c.         H  Dec.  Cone.  Romani  sub  Celasio,  apud  Labbe,  t.  iv.  col.  1261. 


early  Anglicanism  hy  the  Popedom*  571 

dence  on  which  he  rests  his  system,  shall  we  have  any  reason 
to  admire  either  tlie  honesty  or  the  learning  or  the  logic  of  the 
historian  of  the  middle  age  !  His  authorities  are  nought,  and 
his  supports  are  the  veriest  reeds.  Indeed,  the  only  feeling 
which  comes  over  us  whilst  perusirig  the  authorities  on  which 
he  relies,  is  one  of  deep  regret,  regret  to  find  an  individual,  who 
affects  the  scholar,  and  cites  the  works  of  nearly  every  writer 
who  graced  the  Anglo-Saxon,  Danish,  and  Norman  periods, 
not  to  speak  of  earlier  compositions,  adducing  documents 
which  are  admittedly  either  spurious  or  of  no  authority, 
because  at  the  best  of  doubtful  authority;  and  which,  even  if 
genuine,  do  not  in  fact  at  all  bear  on  the  matter  in  proof  of 
which  they  are  alleged.  For  example,  the  twenty-eighth 
canon  of  Chalcedon  was  drawn  up  in  the  absence  of  the  papal 
legates,  and  was  at  once  rejected  by  Leo,  as  it  was  afterwards 
by  Leo's  successors.  And  indeed,  so  conscious  are  the  Greeks 
of  the  nullity  of  this  canon,  that  they  entirely  omit  all  mention 
of  it  in  their  conciliary  collections.*  Nor  is  the  authenticity 
of  the  third  canon  of  Constantinople  established.f  But  allow- 
ing, for  argument's  sake,  the  authenticity  of  the  two  canons, 
what  do  they  prove  ?  That  Rome  is  not  supreme  ?  No. 
This  supremacy,  as  we  have  shown,  was  uniformly  and  univer- 
sally admitted ;  it  was  not  then  questioned  by  any  body  who 
was  recognised  as  a  Christian.  About  what  then  do  the 
canons  in  question  treat  ?  Not  about  the  supremacy  of  Rome, 
but  about  the  Roman  patriarchate.  Attempts  were  made  to 
raise  Constantinople  to  the  dignity  of  the  second  patriarchate, 
to  the  degradation  of  Alexandria  and  Antioch  ;  and  the 
emperor  was  particularly  anxious  to  effect  this ;  but  the 
Pontiff  was  inflexible.  "  The  city  of  Constantinople,"  he 
observed,  "  has  its  privileges,  but  these  are  only  secular — it  is 
a  royal  city  ;  but  it  cannot  become  an  apostolic  see.  No  dis- 
honesty can  tear  away  from  the  Churches  their  just  rights  as 
established  by  the  canons;  nor  can  the  primacy  of  many 
metropolitans  be  invaded  to  gratify  the  ambition  of  one  man. 
Alexandria  ought  not  to  lose  the  second  rank  for  the  crimes 
of  an  individual  like  Dioscorus,  nor  Antioch  the  third."  J 
These  words  evince  at  once  the  real  nature  of  the  decision, 
and  its  inapplicability  when  used  as  an  argument  against  the 
origin  and  extent  of  the  Papal  supremacy.  In  fact,  there  can 
be  no  better  proof  of  Rome's  supremacy  than  the  unflinching 
conduct  of  Leo,  and  the  eagerness  of  the  eastern  and  western 
prelates,  backed  by  the  wishes  of  the  emperor  to  obtain  his  as- 

*  Nat.  Alex.  diss.  iv.  in  saec.  i.  prop.  2,  resp.  ad  7. 

+  See  Lupus  in  Scholiis  ad  hunc  Can.  t,  i.  p.  Z'6Z  et  seq. 

%  Epist.  Ixxviii.  c.  S. 


572  The  gradual  Ahsorption  of 

sent  to  the  precedence  of  Constantinople.  As  is  obvious,  too, 
the  smallest  encroachment  was  noticed  and  opposed  and  con- 
demned by  the  Roman  Pontiffs.  Had  the  Pontiffs  claim  to  an 
universal  supremacy  been  a  novelty,  an  assumption,  the  world 
would  have  rung  with  the  boldness  and  arrogance  ofthe  Bishops 
of"  Kome;  and  Antioch  and  Alexandria  and  Constantinople 
would,  in  conjunction  with  the  rest  of  the  world,  have  de- 
nounced the  usurper,  and  have  refused  to  yield  one  iota  to  his 
pretensions.  We  have  a  guarantee  for  this  in  the  constitution 
of  our  nature,  as  well  as  in  the  history  of  all  usurpations;  and 
a  consequent  refutation  of  the  absurd  supposition  so  strangely 
advocated  by  Hardwick  and  others,  of  a  "gradual  possession 
of  the  supreme  authority,"  and  '*  of  metropolitans  and  others 
being  content  to  become  the  vassals,  instruments,  and  vicars  of 
the  Pontif!'."* 

The  Churches  were  subject  on  principle.  They  were 
bound  to  recognise  the  Pontiff  as  their  head,  for  this  was 
Christ's  ordinance ;  and  simply  on  account  of  this  obligation 
did  they  call  him  head,  and  obey  his  commands.  It  is  true, 
indeed,  that  sometimes  the  prelates  were  but  stubborn  chil- 
dren ;  but  from  this  it  would  be  unfair  to  deny  the  admitted 
principle  of  the  necessity  of  obedience.  Misconduct  and  dis- 
belief are  not  correlative  terms.  Many  a  one  practically  rejects 
a  Divine  command,  whilst  theoretically  his  faith  is  as  unshaken 
and  as  sound  as  ever. 

To  ascribe,  as  Mr.  Hardwick  does,  any  essential  increase 
of  power  to  the  Pontiffs  from  the  publication  of  the  Decretals 
by  Isidore  the  merchant,  or  Isidore  the  sinner — for  as  yet  even 
the  name  of  the  man  has  to  be  discovered,  so  obscure  was  the 
writer  ofthe  collection,  destined,  if  certain  modern  writers  are 
to  be  relied  upon,  to  effect  the  most  stupendous  change  in  the 
form  of  Church  government  which  could  have  been  devised — 
is  neither  more  nor  less  than  nonsense.  This  work  appeared, 
it  is  said,  in  the  first  instance  at  Mayence,  about  the  year  790, 
and  then  through  the  industry  of  Riculph,  the  Bishop  of  that 
city,  several  copies  were  sent  elsewhere.  The  object  even  of 
the  work,  as  well  as  the  country,  character,  and  position  of 
the  writer,  are  unknown.  Whilst  some  writers,  like  Schmidt, 
maintain  that  the  compilation  was  intended  not  to  exalt  the 
popedom,  but  to  depress  the  metropolitans,  and  elevate  pro- 
portionally the  bishops,  Blaso  contends  that  the  object  of  the 
author  of  the  Decretals  was  this :  to  promote  Mayence  to  the 
dignity  of  a  patriarchate.  This  is  at  least  clear ;  Isidore  was 
but  a  bungler  at  the  best.  The  texture  of  his  work  is  unar- 
tistic,  his  anachronisms  manifest ;  and  of  all  the  forgers  with 
*  See  Hardwick,  pp.  239,  240. 


early  Anglicanism  hy  the  Popedom,  57S 

whose  writings  we  are  acquainted,  lie  appears  to  us  to  be  the 
least  fitted  to  deceive  even  the  unwary,  and  induce  arch- 
bishops, metropolitans,  and  patriarchs  to  abandon  original 
claims,  and  believe,  in  opposition  to  the  traditions  and  prac- 
tices of  their  respective  sees,  that  really,  after  all,  though  the 
world  had  been  ignorant  of  the  fact  for  800  years,  the  Roman 
Pontiff  was  the  Shepherd  of  shepherds,  the  head  of  all  churches, 
the  successor  of  St.  Peter,  and  the  prelate  whom  the  whole  of 
Christendom  was  obliged  to  regard  as  its  chief  pastor.  To 
suppose  that  the  Catholic  body  was  deceived  by  such  an  instru- 
ment, it  will  be  necessary  to  allow  that  the  world  consisted 
of  nothing  else  than  madmen  or  fools  in  the  ninth  century; 
though  it  will  be  difficult  to  reconcile  this  important  hypo- 
thesis with  fact,  when  we  remember  that  Syncellus  and 
Alcuin  and  Paulinus  ;  Ludger,  Theodulph,  Adalard,  Nice- 
phorus,  and  Agobard ;  Ratramn  of  Corbie,  Egenard,  Me- 
thodius, Walafrid  Strabo,  and  Florus ;  Rabanus  Maurus, 
Eulogius,  Prudentius,  Lupus,  and  Paschasius  Radbert;  Ado, 
Hincmar,  and  Scotus;  Usuard  and  Alfred  the  Great,  were 
the  writers  who  flourished  in  this  age ;  whilst  Neot  was 
planning  the  University  of  Oxford,  and  Ethelwolf  was  en- 
gaged in  rebuilding  the  school  for  the  English  at  Rome;  and 
wise  and  zealous  persons  like  Anschar  and  Rembert,  and 
Methodius  and  Cyril,  were  preaching  the  gospel  to  Danes  and 
Swedes  and  Bulgarians  and  Moravians  and  Sclavonians. 

We  could  as  soon  be  induced  to  believe  that  the  forged 
gospels,  and  the  numerous  apocryphal  scriptures  which  ap- 
peared in  the  earliest  ages  of  Christianity,  supplanted  the  true 
faith,  and  were  made  the  basis  of  a  new  code  of  dogmas,  com- 
mandments, and  sacraments,  and  of  an  entirely  dissimilar 
body  of  ministerial  functionaries,  as  be  persuaded  that  the 
pseudo-decretals  of  Isidore  introduced  the  Catholic  system  of 
Church  headship,  and  destroyed  an  earlier  system,  totally 
opposed  to  the  supremacy  of  Rome.  No ;  neither  bishops, 
nor  priests,  nor  laymen  yield  up  their  rights  on  the  production 
of  forged  instruments.  Even  Mr.  Hardwick  would  not  aban- 
don his  claims  to  his  works,  or  titles,  or  emoluments  on  such 
pretences;  and  are  we,  at  this  gentleman's  bidding,  to  believe 
that  a  world  abandoned  rights  of  ten  thousand  times  greater 
importance,  because  a  forger — Isidore  the  sinner-merchant — 
palmed  his  Decretals  upon  the  Church  ?  Really  such  a  demand 
on  our  credulity  is  somewhat  exorbitant.  Our  author  laughs 
at  the  legends  and  hagiography  of  former  times ;  but  we  tell 
him  that  no  legend  was  ever  so  absurd,  and  no  miracle  was 
ever  half  so  wonderful,  as  the  legend  of  the  Isidorian  metamor- 
phosis, and  the  miraculous  obliviousness  in  which  Mr.  Hard- 


574*  The  gradual  Absorption  of 

wick  places  such  implicit  faith.  It  is  the  legend  of  another 
Sleepy  Hollow^  which  some  Irvine  has  still  to  write. 

In  fact,  as  we  have  already  shown,  the  Bishops  of  Rome 
possessed  and  exercised  the  duties  of  the  supremacy  ages 
anterior  to  the  appearance  of  the  Decretals  in  question  ;  and 
however  false  the  documents  cited  in  the  body  of  the  work 
may  be,  these  documents  are  in  very  many  instances  a  fair 
exposition  of  the  belief  and  practices  of  the  ages  to  which  they 
are  assigned :  with  a  few  illustrations  of  this  position,  as  far  as 
it  affects  the  supremacy  and  Mr.  Hardwick,  we  will  bring  this 
subject  to  a  conclusion. 

It  is  said,  then,  in  the  first  place,  that  **  it  is  absolutely 
false  that  Bishops  could  not  hold  provincial  synods,  and  give 
efficacy  to  their  decrees,  without  the  previous  approval  and 
ratification  of  those  decrees  by  Rome ;  and  that  Isidore,  by 
hazarding  a  contrary  statement,  clearly  manifested  his  igno- 
rance and  his  object."  Now,  is  Isidore  ignorant,  or  have  liis 
accusers  deserved  this  epithet  ?  Let  us  see.  "  Are  you  igno- 
rant," says  Pope  Julius,  who  wrote  nearly  500  years  before 
Isidore  was  heard  of,  "  that  it  is  the  custom  to  write  to  us  in 
the  first  place,  that  a  just  definition  may  be  hence  obtained  ?" 
The  words  which  have  been  paraded  as  false  and  spurious,  and 
proof  positive  of  Isidore's  wicked  object,  are  precisely  those 
which  we  find  in  the  Tripartite  History ,  the  author  of  which, 
whether  he  be  Cassiodorus,  as  Valesius  thinks,  or  the  scho- 
lastic Epiphanius,  as  Tiraboschi  imagines,  lived  some  300 
years  before  Isidore.  And  Socrates  was  obviously  of  the 
same  mind  as  the  author  of  the  Decretals ;  for  referring  to  a 
council  held  at  Antioch  in  351,  he  observes,  that  '*  it  was  irre- 
gular in  this  respect,  that  Julius  was  not  there  represented." 
Nay  more,  was  not  Dioscorus  publicly  reprehended  in  the 
Council  of  Chalcedon,  for  '*  having  presumed  to  hold  a  synod 
without  the  authorisation  of  the  Holy  See  ?"  and  was  it  not 
there  further  stated,  "  that  this  was  a  thing  which  was  never 
done,  and  which  could  not  be  done  lawfully  ?"  Let  the  ac- 
cusers of  Isidore  study  the  writings  of  antiquity,  ere  they 
presume  to  condemn,  in  the  off-hand  way  they  do,  the  writer 
or  compiler  of  the  Decretals.  If,  owing  to  circumstances,  it 
ever  happened  that  provincial  or  other  synods  were  convened 
without  tlie  direct  sanction  of  Rome,  recourse  was  had  to  the 
Holy  See  for  approval  of  the  synodical  enactments;  and  till 
this  approval  and  ratification  had  been  secured,  it  was  believed 
that  little  or  nothing  had  been  done.  If  the  words  of  St. 
Augustine,  ^^  Roma  locuta  est,  causa  finita  est;''  and  those 
others  of  St.  Innocent,  "if  greater  causes  should  be  agitated, 
let  them,  after  the  episcopal  decision,  be  referred  to  the  Apos- 


early  Anglica7iism  hy  the  Popedom,  575 

tolic  See,  as  the  synod  has  decreed^  and  a  happy  custom 
demands;'''^  be  borne  in  mind,  the  truthfulness  of  the  Isi- 
dorian  statement  will  not  be  questioned. 

Fabian  was  called  upon,  in  the  third  century,  to  ratify  the 
sentence  of  condemnation  passed  on  Privatus  by  an  African 
council. I"  To  Cornelius  were  sent  the  heads  of  the  accusations 
urged  against  the  schismatic  Felicissimus -,4:  whilst  St.  Leo 
assures  us,  that  "  therefore  were  the  Bishops  of  the  greater 
sees  informed  of  the  affairs  of  the  provinces,  tliat  Rome  might 
thus  become  cognisant  of  all  that  passed :  "  Per  quos  ad  imam 
Petri  sedem  imiversalis  Ecclesice  cura  conJlueret"% 

It  is  urged,  as  a  second  instance  of  the  ignorance  or  bad 
faith  of  the  author  of  the  Decretals,  that  he  pretends  that  the 
Popes  alone  had  power  to  pronounce  definitively  on  the  con- 
duct of  Bishops.||  Now,  we  assert  that  this  is  no  pretence, 
no  fiction,  but  a  great  fact — a  fact  to  which  all  ancient  and 
authentic  history  testifies.  For  example :  early  in  the  fourth 
century  St.  Athanasius  of  Alexandria,  Paul  of  Constantinople, 
Asclepas  of  Gaza,  and  many  other  Bishops  from  Thrace, 
Syria,  Phoenicia,  and  Palestine,  went  to  Rome,  after  having 
been  condemned  in  several  councils  held  at  Tyre,  Constan- 
tinople, and  several  other  places,  and  referred  their  causes  to 
the  wisdom  and  equity  of  the  supreme  Pontiff:  and  we  are 
informed  that ''  when  the  Pope  had  heard  their  complaints  .  .  . 
he,  since  on  account  of  the  dignity  of  his  See  the  care  of  all 
belonged  to  him,  restored  to  eacli  his  see,  and  wrote  to  the 
Bishops  of  the  East,  and  reproached  them  for  having,  without 
previously  consulting  him,  judged  these  men  .  . .  If  a  suspicion 
of  this  nature  had  been  entertained  against  a  Bishop,  it  was 
requisite  to  refer  it  to  our  charity."^  Innocent  restored  Chry- 
sostom,  whom  others  had  condemned  and  deposed;  and  acting 
as  men  supreme  in  matters  ecclesiastical,  prior  to  the  time  of 
Nicholas  I.,  the  Popes  deposed  no  fewer  than  eight  Bishops 
of  Constantinople,  as  Nicholas  expressly  declares  in  his  letter 
to  the  Emperor  Michael.  And  it  is  known  to  every  tyro  in 
ecclesiastical  history,  how  earnestly  St.  Cyprian  solicited,  in 
the  third  century,  Cornelius  to  depose  the  unworthy  Marcian, 
and  substitute  some  fitter  person  in  the  see  of  Aries.  In 
fine,  St.  Basil  declares  that  when  Eustatius,  the  Bishop  of 
Sebaste,  was  condemned,   he  hastened  to  Rome,  received  a 

*  Epist.  ad  Vitric.  c.  6. 

f  S.  Cyprian,  epist.  5b,  and  Baronius  ad  ann.  212,  n.  3. 
X  Cyp.,  epist.  42. 

§  Epist.  xlii.  11  Hardwick,  p.  245.  cf.  145,  &c. 

^  See  Socrates,  1.  ii.  c.  2  ;  Sozomen,  1.  iii.  c.  7,  and  seq.  ;  Epist.  ad  Episc.  qui 
ex  Antiochia  scripserunt  apud  S.  Athaa.  apol.  ii. 

VOL  I. NEW  SERIES.  R  R 


576        Tlie  Gradual  Absorption  of  early  Anglicanism. 

letter  of  approval  from   Liberius,   and  in   consequence  was 
restored  to  his  episcopal  dignit3\  * 

We  imagine  that  before  this  the  reader  will  have  felt  pity 
for  the  ignorance  of  the  author  of  the  Middle  Aye  on  the 
question  of  the  supremacy.  On  other  subjects  he  has  not  ex* 
hibited  either  more  ingenuousness  or  more  accuracy :  and  it 
was  our  intention  to  have  exposed  him  still  further,  by  referring 
to  his  statements  in  connection  with  the  sacramental  system  of 
the  Church,  the  state  of  education  in  the  seventh,  eighth,  and 
ninth  centuries,  and  the  oft-exploded  fable,  which  may  be 
designated  **' Alfred  and  the  Decalogue."  But  the  length  of 
our  previous  observations  prevents  us  from  touching  on  these 
and  cognate  matters. 

The  more  we  see  of  modern  publications,  the  deeper  is 
the  impression  made  on  our  minds  of  the  utter  incapacity  of 
Protestants  to  write  a  Church  History.  Catholicity  is  a 
puzzle,  a  mystery  to  them.  To  extricate  themselves  from 
the  difficulties  by  which  they  find  themselves  surrounded, 
recourse  is  had  to  every  sort  of  baseless  conjecture  and  sup- 
position ;  and  thus  their  writings  are  disgraced  by  mis-state- 
ments and  misconceptions  of  the  most  varying  character. 
Unfortunately,  we  Catholics  in  England  have  written  very 
little  in  the  form  of  Church  History.  This  we  deeply  regret; 
for  we  are  strongly  of  opinion,  that  a  clear  historical  ex- 
position of  the  faith  and  practices  of  former  ages  would  deepty 
interest  not  only  the  scholar  but  the  public  at  large,  and 
would  tend  to  remove  a  great  amount  of  ignorance  and  mis- 
understanding, which  has  been  allowed  to  accumulate  against 
us  during  the  last  three  centuries.  We  trust  that  the  hour  is 
at  hand,  when  some  scholars  will  enter  fully  into  those  his- 
torical questions  which  affect  the  faith  of  our  forefathers,  and 
will  present  to  the  public  something  worthy  of  the  name  of 
history.  This  is  a  consummation  which  we  earnestly  desi- 
derate, and  to  which  we  specially  direct  the  attention  of  our 
learned  readers. 

*  Epist.  263  (alias  74). 


Short  Notices,  577 

Sftott  iaotius* 

THEOLOGY,  PHILOSOPHY,  (fee. 

Trials  of  a  Mind  in  its  progress  to  Catholicism.  By  L.  Siliiman  Ives, 
LL.D.,  late  Bishop  of  the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church  in  North  Caro- 
lina (Richardson  and  Son).  This  long-promised  work  has  at  length  made 
its  appearance,  and  will  not  be  found  to  disappoint  the  expectations  that 
its  protracted  delay  will  be  likely  to  have  occasioned.  It  is  one  ofa  class 
which,  in  days  of  popular  libraries,  reading  for  the  rail,  &c.  &c.  merits  high 
commendation,  on  the  ground  of  earnest  reasoning,  patient  pursuit  of 
truth,  and  solid  and  well-matured  argument.  We  wish  we  could  anticipate 
for  it  the  large  circle  of  readers  which  it  deserves  ;  but  the  truth  is,  that 
our  popular  temper  cannot  digest  solid  reasoning ;  it  expects  to  find  every 
subject  treated  with  the  piquancy  of  periodical  literature  far  too  much, 
to  be  likely  to  be  universally  captivated  with  a  depth  of  thought  and  an 
earnestness  of  purpose  so  little  like  itself.  Dr.  Ives  addresses  his  work 
to  his  late  brethren  of  the  Protestant  episcopate  and  clergy;  and  its  chief 
interest  is  intended  to  be  found  in  those  of  that  communion,  who  so  far 
understand  Christian  liberty  as  to  believe  that  they  have  a  right  to  read 
a  Catholic  book.  Unfortunately,  however,  the  usual  Protestant  notion 
of  Christian  liberty  is  that  of  the  strictest  prohibition  to  have  any  thing 
Avhatever  to  do  with  what  is  Catholic  ;  and  in  all  probability,  therefore, 
members  of  the  Church  of  England  will  refuse  to  look  into  this  work  at 
all.  That  is  to  say  :  here  is  a  man  who  for  many  years  held  an  office  of 
the  highest  authority  among  Protestants,  and  by  and  by  abandons  his 
position  and  seeks  admission  into  the  Catholic  Church  ;  then  he  writes 
in  a  most  earnest  and  affectionate  way  to  his  former  friends  and  brethren, 
to  give  them  some  account  of  what  it  is  that  he  has  done,  and  why  he 
has  done  it ;  and  what  more  natural  remains,  one  would  think,  than  that 
his  former  friends,  struck  by  the  circumstance,  should  now  say  to  them- 
selves. Clearly  this  is  a  singular  case  ;  the  man  has  taken  a  most  unusual 
step,  and  here  is  his  justification  of  himself  addressed  to  the  pubh'c;  he 
assures  us  that  he  is  satisfied  with  the  choice  he  "has  made  ;  let  us  get  his 
book  and  see  what  he  has  to  say.  But  alas  !  there  is  a  great  obstacle  in 
the  way.  Oh,  no  !  j^ou  must  not  think  for  a  moment  of  knowing  what 
he  has  to  say ;  the  gospel  law  of  liberty  strictly  forbids  it !  To  the  Catholic 
reader  the  work  will  be  of  interest,  as'it  shows  a  rather  complete  instance 
of  a  convert  brought  to  the  Church  in  what  Mr.  Digby  might  call  the 
•way  of  ecclesiastical  and  doctrinal  organisation. 

Why  I  submitted  to  the  Church,  and  cannot  be  ashamed  of  it.  By 
C.  J.  Laprimaudaye,  A.M.,  late  curate  of  Lavington  and  GrafFhara 
(Burns  and  LambeVt).  These  letters  appear  to  have  been  written  at  the 
time  of  the  author's  conversion  some  three  years  ago ;  so  that  he  ex- 
presses some  fear  lest  their  publication,  after  so  long  a  delay,  should  be 
deemed  unseasonable.  "  A  good  thing  is  never  out  of  season,"  and 
**  better  late  tiian  never,"  are  the  proverbs  which  naturally  occur  to  one's 
mind,  after  reading  the  letters  themselves  and  the  apology  by  which 
they  are  prefaced.  The  one  point  to  which  they  are  directed  is  this 
fundamental  principle— the  necessity  ofa  living  guide,  having  divine, 
and  therefore  unerring  and  supreme  authority,  in  matters  of  faith  ;  and 
the  arguments  by  wJiich  this  is  established  are  clear  and  forcible  in 
themselves,  and  at  the  same  time  expressed  in  a  tone  of  most  perfect 


578  Short  Notices, 

Christian  gentleness  and  charity  towards  those  for  whose  benefit  they 
are  intended. 

We  are  glad  to  see  a  new  edition  called  for  of  Catholic  Hymnsy  ar- 
ranged in  order  for  the  Year  (Burns  and  Lambert).  The  t5''pe  is  much 
larger  than  in  the  former  editions ;  which,  though  serviceable  enough  for 
schools,  was  hardly  adapted  to  the  eyes  of  adults,  and  the  dim  light  of 
many  of  our  churches.  Several  more  hymns  have  also  been  added  to 
the  selection,  which  is  thus  rendered  far  more  complete  and  practically 
useful  for  congregations.  In  a  paper  cover,  the  cost  of  a  single  copy, 
we  believe,  is  only  twopence.  We  beg  to  recommend  it  strongly  to 
those  who  want  such  a  thing. 

The  Rev.  W.  H.  Anderdoit  has  published  an  interesting  Lecture  on 
Jesuitism  (Burns  and  Lambert),  delivered  at  Leicester  early  in  the  past 
month.  It  consists  of  a  series  of  sketches  —  all  cleverly  drawn,  with  a 
touch  of  delicate  and  good-humoured  satire  about  them,  well  suited  to 
the  mixed  Protestant  audience  for  whom  it  was  intended — first,  of  the 
Jesuit  fabulous,  or  the  Exeter-Hall  portrait  of  him  ;  then  of  the  Jesuit 
actual,  or  the  historical  portrait ;  and  lastly  of  the  Jesuit  supposed  or 
suspected,  to  wit,  the  Puseyite  parson,  who  ended,  like  Mr.  A.  him- 
self, by  being  received  into  the  Catholic  Church.  This  section  of 
the  lecture  has,  of  course,  mainly  a  local  and  a  personal  interest ;  there 
are  many  parts  of  the  country,  however,  where,  mutato  nomine,  the 
fahula  may  be  very  truly  and  profitablj^  narrated. 


MISCELLANEOUS  LITERATURE. 

Mr.  Bell's  Annotated  Edition  of  the  English  Poets  (J.  W.  Parker) 
bas  proceeded  as  far  as  the  third  and  concluding  volume  of  Dryden. 
The  first  volume  ofCowper  has  also  appeared.  Mr.  Bell's  life  of  the 
sweet-tempered,  melancholy -hearted  poet  is  brief,  but  gives  as  good  a 
general  idea  of  that  painful  history  as  is  to  be  gained  from  the  poet's 
more  elaborate  biographers  ;  we  are  almost  disposed  to  think  it  gives 
even  a  better  one.  He  mentions  a  particular  which  was  new  to  us,  but 
which  presents  a  pleasing  feature  in  the  record  of  one  whose  virtues 
were  his  own,  and  whose  errors  were  those  of  a  frightful  creed,  forced 
upon  him  by  spiritual  tyranny.  After  Cowper  became  intimate  with 
the  Catholic  family  of  the  Throckmortons  (by  which  he  grievously 
offended  the  dark  Calvinist  Newton),  he  erased  a  savage  passage  in  one 
of  his  published  poems,  and  substituted  another,  which  could  give  no 
pain  to  the  kind  friends  in  whose  cheerful  society  and  unaffected  good- 
ness he  was  finding  so  much  relief  and  consolation.  Mr.  Bell  prints  the 
rejected  passage  in  a  note.  The  poems  are  throughout  given  in  chro- 
nological order,  with  such  prefatory  remarks  as  are  supplied  by  the 
poet's  life  and  correspondence.  In  the  writings  of  a  poet  so  eminently 
autobiographical  and  genuine  as  Cowper,  this  arrangement  adds  a  pecu- 
liar interest  to  Mr.  Bell's  edition. 

The  second  volume  of  Addison^ s  Works,  in  Bohn^s  British  Classics, 
contains  the  papers  from  the  Taller  and  Spectator.  Changed  as  the 
world  is  since  the  days  when  these  inimitable  papers  appeared,  the 
grace  and  wit  of  Addison's  pen  have  given  them  a  charm  which  will 
survive  many  a  change  yet  to  come.    They  certainly  do  not  tend  to 


Short  Notices.  579 

make  one  regret  that  tlie  days  of  Queen  Anne  and  the  Georges  are 
passed  awa3\ 

Armenia; — the  Frontiers  of  Russia,  Turkey,  and  Persia,  by  the  Hon. 
R.  Curzon  (London,  Murray).  Mr.  Curzon  was  sent  to  Erzeroom,  in 
1842,  as  one  of  the  commissioners  to  settle  the  disputed  boundaries  be- 
tween Turkey  and  Persia.  He  has  made  good  use  of  his  opportunities, 
and  has  written  a  valuable  and  lively  book  on  this  portion  of  the  Asiatic 
dominions  of  the  Porte.  Though  a  Puseyite,  at  least  sestheticaliy,  he 
does  not  seem  to  liave  an  idea  that  there  are  any  other  sins  than  theft, 
lying,  and  drunkenness  ;  and  by  this  standard  he  pronounces  the  Turks 
to  be  a  more  moral  race,  not  only  than  the  Christians  whom  they  op- 
press, but  also  than  the  civilised  people  of  Christendom.  "  The  supe- 
riority of  the  Mahometan  over  the  Christian  cannot  fail  to  strike  the 
mind  of  an  intelligent  person  who  has  lived  among  these  races,  as  the  fact 
is  evident  throughout  the  Turkish  empire.  This  arises  partly  from  the 
oppression  which  the  Turkish  rulers  in  the  provinces  have  exercised  for 
centuries  over  their  Christian  subjects:  this  is  probably  the  chief  rea- 
son. But  the  Turk  obeys  the  dictates  of  his  religion,  the  Christian  does 
not;  the  Turk  does  not  drink,  the  Christian  gets  drunk;  the  Turk  is 
honest, — the  Turkish  peasant  is  a  pattern  of  quiet  good-humoured  ho- 
nesty,— the  Christian  is  a  liar  and  a  cheat ;  his  religion  is  so  overgrown 
with  the  rank  weeds  of  superstition,  that  it  no  longer  serves  to  guide 
his  mind  in  the  right  way,"  &c.  Perhaps  the  Turkish  cruelty  and  con- 
tempt for  human  suffering  and  death,  of  which  this  volume  abounds 
with  instances,  is  rather  a  barbarian  virtue  than  a  vice.  The  case  seems 
to  be  pretty  much  the  same  as  it  was  in  Ireland;  the  oppressors  commit 
the  outrageous,  but  in  some  senses  magnificent,  crimes  of  gentlemen ; 
the  oppressed  have  the  paltry  and  disgusting,  but  comjjaratively  venial, 
vices  of  serfs. 

Westminster  Abbey,  or  the  Days  of  the  Reformation,  by  the  author 
of"  Whitefriars,"  &c.,  3  vols.  (London,  Mortimer).  If  this  were  not 
a  '*  rehgious"  novel,  it  would  probably  be  too  disgusting  for  our  sensi- 
tive English  public.  As  it  is,  perhaps  its  obscenities  and  absurdities 
will  be  pardoned,  in  consideration  of  its  being  such  a  terrible  show-up 
of  monks  and  nuns, — almost  equally  so  with  the  famous  production  of 
Maria  Monk  herself.  The  author  has  evidently  studied  the  science  of 
telling  lies  well ;  he  has  invested  his  tale  with  a  kind  of  antiquarian 
savour,  that  will  probably  be  attributed  to  his  deep  knowledge  of  his- 
tory by  those  who  wish  to  believe  his  insinuations.  The  chief  characters 
in  his  book  are,  Sanegraal,  Prior  of  Westminster,  a  model  of  a  Popish 
saint,  famed  throughout  England  for  his  austerities,  who  murders  a  man 
for  the  purpose  of  introducing  his  widow  into  the  abbey  as  precentor, 
and  Roodspere,  an  illegitimate  son  of  Cardinal  Wolsey,  a  priest  of 
strong  moral  principles,  who  seduces  and  marries  a  nun.  We  did  not 
read  the  book  through  ;  but  we  assure  our  readers  that  we  did  not  open 
a  single  page  of  it  that  was  not  either  absurd  from  its  pedantry  and 
affectation,  or  disgusting  from  its  obscenity  and  profanity. 

Hemains  of  E.  Copleston,  Bishop  of  Llandaff,  with  Reminiscences 
of  his  Life,  by  R.  Whately,  Archbishop  of  Dublin  (London,  J.  W. 
Parker).  The  eccentric  occupant  of  the  temporalities  of  the  see  of 
Dublin  has  taken  occasion,  in  publishing  a  few  philological  and  logical 
remarks  of  little  value  from  the  note-book  of  Dr.  Copleston,  and  a  few 
sermons  from  the  same  hand,  to  present  to  the  public  his  own  opinions 
on  several  subjects  which  are  of  more  or  less  present  interest,  especi- 
ally to  the  clerical  world ;  such  as  the  Oxford  University  Bill,  and  the 


580  Short  Notices. 

proposed  limitation  of  the  duration  of  fellov/ships  ;  the  law  against  mar- 
riage with  a  deceased  wife's  sister — on  which  subject,  he  confesses  that 
he  is  not  certain  what  was  the  Bishop's  view ;  the  English  notion  of 
the  transference  of  the  obligation  of  the  Sabbath  to  the  Sunday,  Mhich 
he  pronounces  to  be  an  *'  Anglican  figment,"  as  "  unwarrantable"  as 
"the  denial  of  the  cup  to  the  laity  ;"  and  the  matter  of  Dr.  Hampden, 
who  is  pronounced  to  be  quite  orthodox,  and  whose  condemnation  was 
the  making  of  the  "  Tractite"  partj'-.  The  leaders  of  this  party  he  con- 
siders to  be  conspirators,  who  saw  clearly  from  the  beginning  where 
they  must  end  ;  he  talks  of  their  "insidious  arts,"  and  of  their  plots  to 
**  endanger  the  Church,  not  only  as  an  endowed  society,  hwt  as  a  Chris- 
tian  body.'^  He  pronounces  that  the  clergyman  who  leaves  the  Church 
and  becomes  a  Dissenter,  even  on  grounds  which  he  (Dr.  Whately) 
considers  frivolous,  acts  less  schismatically  than  one  who  openly  im- 
pugns the  doctrine  of  another.  Also,  lie  thinks  it  more  moral  to  be  an 
Atheist,  than  to  sign  the  Articles  in  a  non-natural  sense ;  and  in  his 
own  name,  and  in  that  of  the  subject  of  his  reminiscences,  he  utterly 
repudiates  the  sacramental  character  of  ordination,  or  "  the  transmis- 
sion of  a  mysterious  virtue  from  one  individual  to  another."  The  remarks 
on  academical  matters  are  judicious,  and  worth  consideration  ;  on  other 
subjects,  especially  with  regard  to  the  poor  "  Tractites,"  he  displays 
neither  fairness  nor  good  temper. 

Treasures  of  Art  in  Great  Britain;  being  an  account  of  the  chief 
Collections  of  Paintings,  Drawings,  Sculptures,  illuminated  Mss.,  by 
Dr.  Waagen,  Director  of  the  Royal  Academy  of  Pictures,  Berlin.  3  vols. 
(London,  Murray).  The  bulk  of  this  voluminous  production  consists  of 
mere  catalogue ;  but  it  is  enriched  also  with  an  historical  account  of 
the  rise  and  progress  of  art  in  England,  of  the  beginnings  and  develop- 
ment of  English  collections,  and  with  short  estimates  of  the  chief  Eng- 
lish artists.  A  new  edition  of  the  book  should  be  better  arranged,  and 
purged  of  all  such  irrelevant  details  as  the  description  of  his  sea-sick- 
ness, and  of  the  dinners  he  ate  in  England.  In  his  architectural  descrip- 
tions he  makes  frequent  mistakes ;  as  when  he  says  that  the  choir  of 
Winchester  Cathedral  is  in  the  "  late  Norman  style,"  and  the  nave  in 
"  the  lichly-developed  Gothic  style  here  called  '  decorated  English.'  " 
Altogether  it  is  the  best  book  extant  on  the  subject  to  which  it  relates ; 
it  is  an  enlarged  and  recast  edition  of  a  former  work. 

The  Life  of  Girolamo  Cardano  of  Milan,  Physician.  By  H.  Morley. 
2  vols.  (Chapman  and  Hall).  (Cardano  was  a  famous  physician  and 
astrologer  in  the  sixteenth  century  ;  a  man  of  great  talents,  which  would 
carry  him  on  in  any  line  on  which  he  once  embarked,  far  be5'ond  most 
of  his  contemporaries  ;  and  he  lived  in  no  despicable  age.  But  withal, 
he  was  a  man  of  such  weak  judgment  in  the  choice  of  his  lines  and 
starting  points,  that  all  his  speculations  and  labours  have  been  fruitless. 
He  has  got  just  such  a  biographer  as  he  deserved  ;  one  who  has  laboriously 
gathered  all  the  notices  of  his  subject,  which  are  scattered  in  voluminous 
works,  and  who  has  compiled  an  autobiography,  in  which  all  the  fancies 
and  beliefs  of  the  strange  figure  are  humoured,  and  where  he  is  allowed 
to  tell  his  own  joys,  and  to  bewail  his  sorrows  in  his  own  words.  Mr. 
Morley  is  a  humorist,  and  avails  himself  of  the  privilege  of  the  cap  and 
bells  to  throw  dirt  on  the  convictions  of  all  religionists,  Catholics  and 
Protestants  alike.  The  book  is  a  very  amusing  one,  and  the  style 
strikes  us  as  something  fresh  and  new.  Mr.  Morley  seems  to  have 
opened  a*  fresh  vein  of  literature ;  from  which,  however,  we  do  not 
expect  any  great  results. 


Short  Notices.  581 

Days  and  Hours,  by  Frederick  Tennyson  (London,  J.  W.  Parker). 
A  book  of  poems  by  a  brother  of  the  laureate.  We  have  failed  to  dis- 
cover a  definite  purpose  or  unity  of  idea  in  any  one  of  them.  The  au- 
thor may  carve  his  separate  stones  well,  but  ho  has  no  architectonic 
faculty  of  putting  them  together. 

Wanderings  of  an  Antiquan/^  chiefly  upon  the  traces  of  the  Rbmans 
in  Britain,  by  Thomas  Wright,"  M. A.,  F.S. A.  (London,  Nichols).  These 
papers  (most  of  which  have  ap|>eared  in  the  Gentleman'' s  Magazine), 
are  both  picturesque  and  instructive  ;  but  we  cannot  recommend  a  writer 
who  makes  such  a  perfectly  gratuitous  statement  as  the  following : 

''  In  the  earlier  a^es  of  Western  Christianity  two  things  were  re- 
quisite for  the  foundation  of  a  Church, — materials  to  build  it  with,  and 
relics  to  give  it  sanctity.  Both  were  furnished  by  an  ancient  site,  the 
old  buildings  yielding  the  materials  for  construction,  while  there  was 
generally  a  burial  place  near  at  hand,  where  the  monks  could  find  bones 
enough  to  create  a  saint.  Such  was  the  ease  at  Verulanicum.  MoJern 
discoveries  seem  to  show  that  the  top  of  the  hill  where  the  Abbey  Church 
now  stands  was  one  of  the  Roman  cemeteries  ....  When  the  Saxon 
kings  of  Mercia  were  converted  to  Christianity,  a  church  was  built  on 
the  adjoining  hill,  and  some  of  the  buildings  of  the  Roman  city  were 
demolished  to  furnish  materials.  The  monks  who  built  it  wanted  a 
saint ;  they  found  in  a  then  popular  Christian  Latin  poet,  Fortunatus, 
mention  of  a  man  named  Alban,  who  was  said  to  have  suffered  martyr- 
dom in  Britain — 

Albanum  egregium  faecunda  Britannia  profert. 

The  Saxon  monks  accordingly  dug  up  some  Roman  bones,  declared 
that  they  belonged  to  the  martyred  body  of  St.  Alban,  and  built  their 
church  upon  the  spot.  Some  denizen  of  the  place  next  proceeded 
to  make  a  life  of  the  saint,  and  this  has  been  preserved  by  the  historian 
Bede,'^  &c. 

We  cannot  help  noticing  a  complete  parallel  to  this  criticism  of 
Mr.  Wright  in  Mr.  F.  Newman's  Phases  of  Faith,  p.  135.  Talking  of 
the  miracle  of  Josue,  the  standing  still  of  the  sun,  he  says  :  "  In  reading 
the  passage,  I  for  the  first  time  observed  that  the  narrative  rests  on 
the  authority  of  a  poetical  book  which  bears  the  name  of  Jasher.  He 
who  composed  'Sun,  stand  thou  still  upon  Gibeon ;  and  thou  moon  in 
the  valley  of  Ajalon  !'  like  other  poets,  called  on  the  sun  and  moon  to 
stand  and  look  on  Josue's  deeds ;  but  he  could  not  anticipate  that  his 
words  would  be  hardened  into  fact  by  a  prosaic  interpreter,  and  appealed 
to  in  proof  of  a  stupendous  miracle.  The  commentator  could  not  tell 
what  the  moon  had  to  do  with  it ;  yet  he  has  quoted  honestly."  ....  Our 
readers  will  observe  that  both  these  arguments  depend  on  the  same 
assumption ;  if  in  an  ancient  history  a  poem  is  quoted  to  prove  an 
extraordinary  event,  that  poem  is  the  only  foundation  for  the  belief  in 
it,  and  is  itself  merely  the  production  of  the  imagination  of  the  poet. 
Henceforth,  the  easiest  way  to  prove  an  event  to  be  fabulous,  will  be  to 
quote  authority  for  it  from  a  chronicle  in  rhyme. 

My  Schools  and  Schoolmasters,  or  the  Story  of  my  Education, 
By  Hugh  Miller  (Edinburgh,  Johnstone  and  Hunter).  We  do  not 
hesitate  to  pronounce  this  volume  to  be  one  of  the  most  curious  and 
interesting  accessions  to  contemporary  literature  that  has  come  under 
our  notice.  Its  author  was  born  a  Scottish  peasant,  was  educated  at  a 
Scottish  parish-school,  and  spent  the  best  part  of  his  youth  and  early 
manhood  in  the  calling  of  a  stonemason.    Yet,  by  the  force  of  his  genius 


582  Short  I^'otices. 

alone  he  has  established  his  reputation  in  the  highest  scientific  circles 
as  a  first-class  geologist,  and  has  attained  a  raciness  and  masterly  vigour 
of  style-  surpassed  by  very  few  living  writers  of  the  English  language. 
He  delineates  the  original  beauties  of  external  nature  with  rare  truthful- 
ness and  imaginative  feeling ;  his  portraits  of  Scottish  character  are  not 
inferior  to  anything  that  Gait  or  Wilson  ever  wrote.  As  a  geologist,  he 
is  an  accurate  and  philosophical  observer  and  an  original  discoverer, 
particularly  in  the  series  of  palaeozoic  strata  known  as  the  Devonian^  or 
old  red  sandstone  We  had  an  opportunity,  not  long  ago,  of  hearing  him 
lecture  on  his  favourite  science,  and  were  charmed  as  much  by  the  variety 
and  extent  of  his  information,  as  by  the  modest  diffidence  of  his  manner. 
AVe  are  bound,  however,  to  distinguish  between  Mr.  Miller's  excellence 
as  a  man  of  science  and  a  powerful  writer,  and  his  character  as  a  po- 
lemical theologian;  for  such  he  also  is,  like  many  of  his  countrymen 
He  will  not  expect  our  favourable  opinion  to  follow  him  into  this 
domain  :  indeed,  as  the  editor  of  the  leading  Free-church  newspaper, 
he  is  committed  to  a  keen  and  uncompromising  hostility  to  Erastianism 
in  the  Establishment,  and  Popery  every  where.  There  are  one  or  two 
passages  in  this  otherwise  beautiful  volume  which  no  Catholic  can  read 
without  pain.  Yet,  even  on  the  subject  of  religion,  his  vigorous  and  in- 
dependent mind  emancipates  itself  from  more  than  one  of  the  com- 
monly-accepted fallacies  which  pass  current  in  his  country  as  '^ gospel 
truth."  It  is  a  token  of  his  possessing  no  small  share  of  moral  courage, 
that  he  should  even  conditionally  advocate  Sunday  walking.  With  well- 
directed  power,  he  explodes  the  intolerant  notion  that  visitations  of  Provi- 
dence, falling  on  one  class  of  the  community,  must  necessarily  be  intended 
as  ''a  judgment"  on  the  supposed  misdeeds  of  another  class  who  suffer 
nothing  at  all;  a  notion  advocated  in  his  hearing  by  a  "minister"  of 
some  note,  a  quarter  of  a  century  ago.  Truth,  it  seems,  is  to  be  spoken 
at  last  about  the  parish-schools  of  Scotland,  which  we  have  been  made 
to  believe  models  for  the  humble  imitation  of  Christendom.  Mr.  Miller 
knows  how  false  that  idea  is,  and  he  is  not  afraid  to  say  so.  "  I  never 
knew  any  one  who  owed  other  than  the  merest  smattering  of  theological 
knowledge  to  these  institutions;  and  not  a  single  individual  who  had 
ever  derived  from  them  any  tincture,  save  the  slightest,  of  religious 
feeling.  So  far  as  I  can  remember,  I  carried  in  my  memory  from 
school  only  a  single  remark  at  all  theological  in  its  character;  and  it 
was  of  a  kind  suited  rather  to  do  harm  than  good." 


FOREIGN  LITERATURE. 


BibliotMque  des  Ecrivains  de  la  Compagnie  de  Jesus,  Premiere  serie 
(Liege,  Grandmont-Donders,  1853),  containing  literary  notices,  1.  of 
all  the  works  published  by  members  of  the  society,  from  its  formation 
to  the  present  day  ;  and  2.  of  the  apologies,  religious  controversies, 
literary  and  scientific  criticisms,  of  which  they  have  been  the  subjects, 
by  Augustin  and  Alois  de  Backer,  S.J.  This  first  series  gives  an  alpha- 
betical list  of  the  members  of  the  society  who  have  written  books,  with  the 
titles  of  their  works,  and  a  short  appreciation  of  the  more  remarkable 
and  valuable  among  them ;  the  second  series  ought  to  be  most  import- 
ant and  interesting. 

Relation  abregee  dequelques  Missions  des  Peres  de  la  Compagnie  de 
Jesus  dans  la  nouvelle  jfrance,  par  le  P.  F.  J.  Bressani,  S.J.  (Montreal, 


Correspondence,  583 

John  Lovell).  Father  Bressani  was  born  in  1612,  entered  the  society 
in  1627,  and  after  teaching  for  some  time  in  the  Roman  College,  went 
as  missioner  to  Canada,  where  he  spent  nine  years  among  the  Huron 
tribe.  After  this  he  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  Iroquois,  who  tortured 
him  in  a  horrible  manner,  and  sold  him  to  the  Dutch,  by  whom  he  was 
kindly  treated,  and  taken  back  to  Europe.  In  1645  he  returned  to  his 
old  mission  among  the  Hurons ;  but  his  health  failing,  he  returned  to 
Italy,  where  he  published  the  interesting  account  of  his  labours  (of 
which  this  is  a  translation)  in  1653.  It  abounds  with  valuable  informa- 
tion on  the  customs  and  opinions  of  the  Indians  of  Canada. 

Des  Etudes  et  de  V Enseignement  des  Jesuites  a  Vepoque  de  leur  sup- 
pression  (1750-1773),  par  M.  Abbe  Maynard  (Paris,  Poussielque-Rus- 
and).  This  is  an  answer  to  that  part  of  F.  Theiner's  work,  Z'Histoire 
du  Pontificat  de  Clement  XIV.,  which  treats  on  the  style  of  Jesuit 
teaching  at  the  period  of  the  dissolution  of  the  order.  This  is  not  the 
place  to  enter  into  this  controversy  5  but  those  who  have  followed  it 
ought  to  read  this  short  and  temperate  defence  of  the  order. 

Le  Protestantisme  et  la  Rhgle  de  Foi,  par  le  Rev.  P.  J.  Perrone,  S.J. ; 
translated  by  M.  I'Abbe  A.  C.  Peltier  (Paris,  Louis  Vives).  A  French 
edition  of  the  great  work  of  Father  Perrone,  on  which  his  future  fame 
will  be  chiefly  founded,  translated  with  the  concurrence  of  the  author. 
It  is  to  be  hoped  that  we  may  soon  have  an  English  edition  of  this  im- 
portant book. 


THE  MORTLAKE  CHORAL  SCHOOL. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Rambler, 

Dear  Sib, — As  you  have  already  more  than  once  referred  in  the 
Rambler  to  the  subject  of  choral  schools,  will  you  kindly  permit  me  to 
say  a  word  or  two  by  way  of  defence  and  explanation  of  the  one  which 
I  have  undertaken. 

I  say  defence;  for  in  a  letter  contained  in  your  April  number, 
the  Very  Rev.  Canon  Oakeley  speaks  of  the  plan  of  a  choral  school  as 
surrounded  with  practical  difficulties  ;  yet  in  the  first  case  he  supposes, 
which  is  exactly  the  case  of  my  school,  viz.  one  in  which  the  moral, 
general,  and  musical  departments  are  undertaken  by  different  persons, 
the  only  thing  in  the  shape  of  a  difficulty  that  he  himself  brings  for- 
ward is,  that  "  he  thinks  it  far  better  to  graft  the  musical  education 
on  poor  or  middle  schools.^'  Experience  will  show  whether  this  is  an 
easier  or  a  better  plan.  Yet,  at  least,  until  the  better  system  shall  be 
adopted,  this  does  not  seem  to  me  to  be  a  reason  for  throwing  cold  water 
on  the  first  systematic  attempt  to  provide  the  "  ipsos  instructores"  which 
he  speaks  of  our  wanting  so  much. 

However,  it  is  an  easy  thing  to  meet  an  objection  founded  on  a  rea- 
son. What  I  have  at  present  found  to  be  the  greatest  "  practical  dif- 
ficulty" in  the  establisliing  my  school — though  it  is  only  one  that  seems 
to  attend  every  public  undertaking — is  the  incredulity  of  people.  If 
those  who  care  for  the  subject  would  point  out  any  particular  defects  or 
difficulties  in  the  system  of  the  school,  and  make  suggestions  how  they 
were  to  be  remedied,  I  could  not  but  feel  grateful  to  them ;  but  when 


584  Correspondence, 

the  predictions  of  failure  come  from  those  who  have  not  so  much  as 
made  themselves  acquainted  with  what  one  is  undertaking,  and  the 
"friends"  of  the  school  shake  their  heads,  and  say  that  "they  hear  the 
thing  is  not  succeeding,"  weeks,  and  even  months,  before  it  is  begun, 
there  seems,  so  far,  at  least,  no  reason  for  being  discouraged. 

What  I  wish  to  answer  in  defence  is,  that  the  school  was  opened  at 
Easter,  and  is  going  on  satisfactorily  ;  and  though  it  cannot  be  expected 
that,  in  the  space  of  one  month,  any  great  ^results  should  have  been 
obtained  either  in  point  of  numbers  or  proficiency,  yet  any  one  who 
takes  an  interest  in  it  may  see  it.at  work,  and  hear,  if  they  please,  the 
instructions  given,  whether  in  music  or  in  general  subjects. 

In  the  second  place,  I  wish  to  explain  the  precise  idea  of  my  school. 
From  its  being  called  "  choral,"  many  seem  to  view  it  simply  as  a 
school  for  teaching  music.  Unreasonably,  I  think ;  for  none  of  the 
choral  schools  founded  by  our  ancestors  in  this  country,  and  from  one  of 
which  the  plan  of  my  school  was  taken,  are  of  this  character.  They  are  all 
grammar-schools;  but  in  which  music,  systematically  taught,  is  a  part  of 
the  education.  Perhaps  it  might  have  been  better  if  I  could  have  found 
a  designation  less  liable  to  be  misunderstood.  But,  however  it  may  be 
as  to  the  name,  the  idea  of  the  school  is,  to  furnish  at  a  small  expense 
an  education  suitable  for  boys  whose  ambition  it  is  to  be  employed  in 
some  way  about  the  Church.  There  is  a  large  class  of  very  promising- 
lads  in  the  middle  and  lower  classes,  who  might  be  trained  to  serve  as 
choristers.  Now,  while  at  the  same  time  they  receive  a  good  general 
education,  such  as  may  fi#them  to  be  admitted  into  one  of  our  semi- 
naries, if  they  are  found  to  have  a  vocation;  and  if  not,  to  make  an 
efficient  set  of  schoolmasters,  singing  men,  sacristans,  &c., — my  idea  is, 
to  facilitate  their  education,  by  offering  it  at  so  low  a  rate  that  their 
parents  or  friends  may  be  able  to  aftbrd  the  expense.  With  this  idea, 
I  have  refused  several  who  were  looking  rather  for  a  general  education  ; 
as  I  wish  to  keep  the  particular  object  of  the  school  steadily  in  view. 

I  have  taken  up  too  much  of  your  valuable  space ;  but  as  I  know 
that  you,  as  well  as  many  of  your  readers,  take  an  interest  in  any  eflbrt 
made  to  supply  the  acknowledged  deficiencies  of  our  present  state  in 
England,  I  hope  this  will  be  considered  to  excuse. 

Dear  Sir,  yours  faithfully, 

St.  Mary  Magdalene^  Mortlake,  J.  G.  "WenhAM. 

Mai  8th,  1854. 

[We  trust  that  the  present  correspondence  (which  must  now  end) 
will  at  least  hav*  the  effect  of  bringing  the  subject  of  choral  education 
more  distinctly  before  such  of  our  readers  as  may  be  able  to  lend  a 
helping  hand  to  so  good  a  work  as  that  which  has  been  undertaken  by 
Mr.  Wenham.  The  particulars  of  his  school  were  given  at  length  in  the 
Rambler  for  February  last,  at  page  133.  We  wish  him  every  success  in 
his  excellent  undertaking,  and  at  the  same  time  take  the  liberty  of  sug- 
gesting to  all  persons  who  have  the  charge  of  the  education  of  promising 
boys  with  good  voices,  a  candid  consideration  of  the  peculiar  advantages 
offered  by  Mr.  Wenham's  school.— Ed.  K ambler.] 


END  OF  VOL.  I. 


Robson,  Levey,  and  Franklyn,  (ireal  New  Street  anATetter  Lane. 


A|^^^** 


VA^^A^,' 


-^^pi^f' 


J^^^fflW 


A^'V^A^V 


/^    ^     a^^aA^   A^ 


O-  o'n 


'■<;r,^!i>>wi'S;CAT: 


'>s^^ 


l«!5--?=.-«? 


^  .«N,^/^,r^^/^